Caged
by Lily1186
Summary: DeanSam, Wincest. Sam and Dean get into a fight and something unexpected happens.
1. Chapter 1

**Caged**

**Disclaimer: No, sadly I do not own anything Supernatural related. Damn shame though.**

Pairings: Dean/Sam, Wincest folks so if you don't like then don't read.

Summary: Sam and Dean get into a fight and something unexpected happens.

Author's note: All right, so I couldn't stay away. Anyways, no flames please if you already read the summary then you know what to expect so don't get mad at me. Constructive criticism gladly welcomed and I hope you enjoy. Now, on with the show...

"Just what the hell did you think you _were_ doing then!"

"I thought I was protecting you!"

"By risking your own life! How the hell does that help me exactly!" Sam stopped pacing long enough to face the person he was directing his anger towards.

"It helps you by you not getting your throat ripped out, dumbass!" Dean's lashed out with equal viciousness at the complete absurdity of the entire discussion.

"Don't feed me that crap, you were the one throwing yourself in front of the 400-pound werewolf!" Sam couldn't believe that Dean was being so one-minded and he wanted to hit him. However, he wanted to hit him even more for calling him a dumbass. Before he knew what he was doing he had begun moving toward Dean with a feline grace. To anyone else Sam's palpable anger and tall stature would have been intimidating considering he was about 4 inches taller than the majority of the people they met. For Dean though, having seen Sam grow into himself, it only served to infuriate him further.

"Only because you were too stupid to duck!"

Sam was now towering menacingly over Dean glaring at him for all he was worth. Dean was looking similarly menacing with his tense jaw and closed fists, just waiting for the first punch to be thrown.

Both brothers knew that they would protect each other to the death against anything supernatural, but they were not above kicking the crap out of each other when the time called for it. And something was definitely calling pretty damn loud.

Sam was so angry his breathing had picked up and his chest was heaving with repressed fury, and while Dean looked mildly calm Sam could see the tick in his jaw and the fire in his eyes. He also knew that if he didn't back down soon then they would be duking it out through the morning.

However rationally Sam's left brain was thinking however, his right brain just didn't give a damn and when Sam spoke again his voice was low and controlled. His tone could have frozen water and Dean had to work at not shivering slightly.

"_Don't_ call me stupid."

Dean laughed harshly at Sam and turned towards the door in an attempt to gain control over his own temper. He failed miserably though and spun back around to face Sam. "Oh that's right, you went to college. That must mean you're the smartest person on the fucking planet now, right?" Dean moved into Sam's personal space and shoved a finger into his chest roughly. Sam would have stumbled if he hadn't been prepared for it. Instead he shoved Dean equally hard in the shoulders.

For a moment there was complete silence, one little misstep and someone probably would have wound up either sleeping in the car or getting their faces stitched up. However, instead of Dean lashing out and punching Sam in the face he did something completely unplanned and unexpected. He covered the few short feet between them and grabbed Sam's hair before pulling him in for a kiss that would have melted the ice that Sam had previously created.

For a minute Sam stood there in shock holding himself as rigidly as possible, the next thing he knew he was shoving his tongue past his brother's lips and attempting to swallow him whole.

They kept at this for about two minutes before they broke apart for air. Sam was now breathing heavier than before and Dean's face was flushed. They stared at each other in a mixture of shock and lust before Sam finally spoke.

"What...what was that?" His voice was husky and Dean had the sudden urge to attack his bruised lips again but held himself back because he didn't want Sam to bolt.

"I..." he trailed off numbly and continued to stare at Sam's lips. Sam licked them unconsciously and Dean's eyes darkened with lust. He stood up straighter and took a deep breath.

He took a few more before he finally spoke up. "Honestly, I have no idea. Look, I don't know what got into me. I'm sorry." It all spilled out so fast that Dean had to close his eyes and remember to breathe again. Then when that was done, he braced himself for the rejection he knew was coming.

While Dean was busy preparing himself for rejection Sam was trying to sort out his own thoughts. Unfortunately at the moment all they consisted of was Dean's lips on his own. He had turned away from Dean when he had spewed forth his excuse and now that he was looking at him again he could see in his stance that Dean was expecting Sam to push him away. For God's sake he was standing so rigid that a 90-mph wind couldn't knock him over.

Dean was watching Sam like he was preparing to be berated, or like Sam was about to run to the bathroom to take a shower. He expected anything to happen except for what did. Because instead of Sam gargling with bleach or "taking a walk" he closed the gap between them and began kissing Dean again.

Dean was shocked for about a millisecond before he realized what this might mean and moaned loudly in approval, latching his hand onto the back of Sam's neck.

Sam's hands meanwhile had begun wandering and had ended up attaching themselves to Dean's ass. When he gave them a sharp squeeze Dean moaned even louder and bit into Sam's bottom lip in warning. He could feel Sam smiling against his lips and in retribution he wrapped his hand in Sam's hair and pulled, just enough to cause a little pain and extricate a soft gasp from Sam's covered lips.

Grinning widely, he pulled away from Sam's lips. When Sam groaned at the loss of contact, Dean tsked at him. Actually tsked, waving his index finger from side to side like a disappointed parent.

"Now, now Sammy, be a good little college boy and play nice."

Sam scowled at Dean and asked, "Who put you in charge?" All this did was elicit a laugh from deep within Dean's chest.

"Well, since I'm the one who started this..." he waved his hands around as if he couldn't find the right words and then his eyes lit up as he found a way to express what he meant. An expression which began with Dean trailing his hand slowly down Sam's lean chest before stopping right where his shirt met the top of his jeans. When he hooked his finger into the front and pulled slightly, Sam fell rather ungracefully into him. Neither of them minded of course.

"We can stop you know" Dean whispered huskily into Sam's ear. Sam swallowed convulsively and licked his lips again. His hair had fallen into his face and his cheeks were blushing. Dean thought it was the most erotic sight he had ever seen. Out of pure instinct Dean rubbed his cheek against the side of Sam's face. Sam was suddenly reminded of the tigers that he had seen at the zoo when he was younger.

He had gone to the zoo on a field trip with a class he had been in for about a week. His father had finally gotten him enrolled after he had begged and pleaded for several months. Of course his father had only conceded because Dean had promised to help double time with the hunts and make sure that Sam learned to shoot the .45 by Christmas time.

But anyways, Sam had been walking around aimlessly for about 20 minutes and had come across the tiger den that was set up in the middle of the zoo. At first he hadn't seen anything interesting but as he rounded the corner he had practically come face to face with a couple of tigers that were sitting comfortably under one of the planted trees in the middle of the exhibit. Sam had watched in fascination as they rubbed their cheeks against each other in what he saw as a sign of possession and care. Even at thirteen Sam had wanted to experience something like that. Something so primal and sacred that it took his breath away.

Now Sam realized that he could have it. That the one person who could give it to him had been standing in front of him the entire time and he just hadn't seen it. He was so glad that Dean had been the one to make the first move because Sam hadn't even realized what he had been missing until Dean had shown him.

He pulled back a little ways from Dean and looked into his eyes. All that he saw there was lust mixed with a love so deep that Sam could have drowned in it. For a moment he just stared at Dean marveling in the way that only those in love can do. He could feel himself frown as he thought of all the years that he had denied himself this perfect Eden with his brother. It had been standing in front of him the entire time and he had been too blind to notice. Too stupid.

While Sam was mulling over this new found revelation Dean was having one of his own. What if Sam didn't really feel the same way that he did? What if he was just doing this out of some misplaced emotion of making his brother happy. Dean became even more assured of his hypothesis when he examined Sam's expression and all he could take in was the look of deep thought etched into his brother's forehead.

He was just about to move away, so sure that Sam was going to tell him to stop, that this had all just been a mistake, when Sam smiled and pulled him in close, gently biting his earlobe. Dean's heart began thumping so loudly that he was sure that Sam could hear it. His breathing had increased as well in anticipation of what Sam might finally reveal. When he did finally speak Dean almost cried out in relief.

"No Dean, I never want you to stop." And with that said he gently rubbed his cheek against Dean's and leaned back in for another kiss. Both assured that nothing would ever get between them again because now they knew that they belonged together. And God help anything that tried to pull them apart because they would be torn into little ribbons and set loose into the wind.

The End?


	2. Emptiness

**Caged**

**Disclaimer: No, sadly I do not own anything Supernatural related. Sometimes the world is truly cruel.**

Pairings: Sam/Dean, Wincest folks. If you don't like, then don't read. Rated for language in this chapter.

Summary: Dean begins to have regrets. Things are said that can't be taken back. DeanAngst. SamAngst.

Author's note: Alright this was only supposed to be a one-shot so you can't really blame me if this ends up sucking extremely bad. But I was just so happy that people finally liked one of my stories so here you go. It's my first shot at real angst too so be nice. Enjoy, and remember, no flames. You've read the warnings so heed them...

Oh yeah, and the '( )' marks mean thought. Just in case nobody knew.

**Chapter 2- Emptiness**

Dean had been staring at the ceiling for two straight hours now and he still hadn't figured out what he was going to do.

The one thing that he was absolutely sure of was that the other night had been a mistake. It didn't matter that it had been the best moment of his entire life, it had to be stopped before it went any further.

He sighed loudly into the dark motel room and rubbed at his eyes. He had been driving for 12 straight hours when Sam had suggested that they stop for the night. Dean had agreed but only because they didn't really have anyplace to be at the moment.

So, they had rented this crappy motel room for $20 and Dean had gone straight to bed. Of course he hadn't actually slept at all since they had arrived. Sam on the other hand was asleep in the bed next to him and seemed to be sleeping soundly for once.

'Thank God for small favors.'

It had been two nights and ten hours since Dean and Sam had finally merged and Dean hadn't really spoken to Sam since. It wasn't that Dean was mad or even regretful, hell he would love to spend the rest of his life with his brother, but he knew now that it wasn't an option. Sam was too fragile. For Dean to have taken advantage of him just because he was feeling weak and angry...it was no excuse. 'Damn it Sammy, I'm sorry. I never think about shit before I act. Now what the hell am I going to do?'

Dean rolled over restlessly and stared at Sam's illuminated body in the dark. The windows from the crappy motel were open and the light from the full moon was shining in from outside, landing directly on Sam's prone figure and making it glow almost magically.

'Looks like a damn angel.' Dean snorted loudly at the corniness of his thoughts and then quickly checked to see that he hadn't woken up his brother. When he was assured that Sam hadn't heard him and was still dreaming of lollipops and candy canes, he pulled his feet from under the covers and threw them restlessly onto the floor. He sat there for a moment bracing both arms against the mattress before he stood up and made his way into the bathroom.

He made sure to close the door quietly before he turned on the bathroom light and squinted at the brightness of the fluorescent light bulb that sharply lit up the room.

He scrubbed his hand across his face and paced for a couple of minutes before stopping in front of the dingy little bathroom mirror. Dirt and rust had started to erode the outside corners and a small crack was making its way down from the upper left-hand corner.

For a moment Dean could just picture the crack beginning to spread before shattering right in front of his eyes and falling to pieces, littering the bathroom floor with glass. He shook his head to clear the image before he stared hard at his reflection.

'Sam didn't tell me I needed to shave' Dean thought absentmindedly. He ran his hand along his jaw and sighed. 'Jesus, what the hell am I doing.'

He remembered back to Sam and him sitting in the car outside of a Burger King the previous day. They had been talking about something stupid and Sam had taken a pickle off of his whopper and flung it rather haphazardly at Dean's face. It missed by a long shot and ended up on the seat behind him but Dean got pissed anyway.

"Hey! What the hell Sam! You're getting ketchup all over my fucking seat here! You know you're going to clean that up right?" Sam had just smiled proudly and stuck out his tongue. Dean just stared at him in shock.

"Did you seriously just stick your tongue out at me?" He couldn't believe it, Sam had just acted like he wasn't a 40-year-old in a 22-year-olds body.

Sam just flipped him off and then started laughing hysterically at the look on Dean's face. He went on like that for a solid two minutes before he began coughing and Dean slapped him on the back. Sam braced himself on the dashboard so that he wouldn't hit his head on it from the force that Dean had hit him. When he finally got his breath back he glared at Dean and said, "Are you trying to kill me here man?"

"No, just wondering why you're deciding to act like a five-year-old now instead of someone with a stick up their ass."

Sam opened his mouth in shock at Dean's bluntness and then quickly closed it. When the look of indignation didn't fade and Sam's face began to color Dean began laughing.

"Dude I'm only kidding. Well, half-kidding. I'm glad you're happy. Makes me happy." He looked away then and started the car. When he glanced at Sam out of the corner of his eye the blush hadn't faded but instead of a frown Sam's face held a small smile. They had driven the rest of the day in silence and at the next rest stop Sam had thoroughly cleaned the ketchup and pickle stain off of Dean's back seat.

Dean blinked slightly realizing he had been daydreaming and quickly turned his head towards the door. Everything still sounded quiet so he assumed Sam was still sleeping and not sleepwalking all over the motel room.

"What the hell was I thinking?" Dean started slightly when he realized he had spoken out loud and then he sighed.

He estimated that he had been in the bathroom about 20 minutes already which meant that it had to be about 3:00 am by now. He hated this time of day.

He hated it not only because evil generally tended to revel in this time of the morning but also because it was too damn quiet. And when it got too quiet all of his thoughts started to crowd in on him. Tonight was no exception.

'What if I'm not enough?' The thought slipped out before he had time to stop it and then it was all downhill from there. Once one thought had trickled past his defenses they all flowed out like a dam had broken and there was no way to stop its progress.

'What if he only kissed me because he thought he had to? What if he's just trying to make me happy? What if I hurt him? I will hurt him. I hurt everyone. Fuck, what am I doing!' Dean slammed his fist into the sink so hard that it started to come loose from the wall. Little chunks of old tile and plaster fell soundlessly to the floor and a small cloud of white dust billowed out around him. His fist meanwhile had started to bleed and throb painfully from the impact. But the worst thing was when he heard a small knock on the bathroom door and an even smaller voice.

"Dean, is everything alright?"

"Shit" Dean swore lightly and began looking around frantically for a towel to slow the bleeding.

"I'm fine Sammy, everything's fine. Go back to sleep." His voice was rushed and he knew Sam wouldn't be convinced until he opened the door to see for himself that Dean was in fact alright. Sure enough...

"Open the door Dean." Sam's voice drifted in through the door and it didn't sound happy. Dean closed his eyes and counted to ten. Then he reached for the door knob.

He opened the door about a half an inch and all Sam could see was an eyeball. "See, I'm fine." Then he started to close the door again. However, since Dean's luck had always been crap and his reflexes were slower with his left hand, Sam had plenty of time to stick his fingers in the door jam before he could close it completely. Dean glared angrily at Sam imposing on him but Sam didn't seem to care. He simply pulled on the door until Dean let go and then frowned as he took in Dean's bloody hand and the wrecked sink.

He didn't say anything for a moment, just kept glancing at the sink, then Dean's hand, and finally back at the sink.

"What happened? Did you do that?" Dean rolled his eyes and snorted.

"Not exactly the brightest crayon in the box now are we Sammy."

Sam just scowled at him and said, "Don't call me Sammy." Then he brushed past his brother and picked up a towel that had fallen off of the sink earlier. Dean glared at it wishing it would burst into flames for not presenting itself to him earlier in his time of need. "Stupid towel" he muttered instead when it didn't spontaneously combust.

Sam laughed and pushed Dean lightly in the back to get him to move into the bedroom again.

"Sit down" he gestured toward the bed closest to the door, his bed. Dean looked at it wearily but moved to comply because Sam was standing a little too close behind him for him to do anything else.

Sam had picked up the first aid kit on the way out of the bathroom and settled himself next to Dean on the bed. He folded his left leg under him so that he could have better access to Dean's injured hand and began to mend.

He was finished in no time flat and when the last piece of surgical tape was put into place Dean couldn't stand up fast enough.

"Thanks Sammy, now how about we get some more sleep." He started walking toward his bed when he felt a hand on his shoulder.

"Not so fast Dean. I want to know what the hell is going on with you." Dean closed his eyes against the voice and the warmth of the hand on his shoulder before he spoke again.

"Nothing's wrong, go back to bed." He tried moving again but Sam wouldn't be swayed and he tightened his grip in warning.

"Damn it Dean, just talk to me!" He used the grip he had on Dean's arm to spin him around. However, when he saw Dean's expression he wished that he hadn't. That he had just left well enough alone and did what Dean had told him to do.

Dean's face was a mask. His eyes were lacking any emotion and his face had become completely still. Sam's gut knotted in apprehension. The only time that Dean's face ever took on this expression was when he was about to tell Sam something devastating.

The last time he had seen it was when he was 16 and Dean was 20. Sam's friend had been in the hospital after having been struck by a drunk driver. Dean had come into his room at 4:15 in the morning and told him that his friend hadn't made it. Sam had cried for three days straight after that.

Somehow, instinctively, Sam knew that this might just be worse than losing his friend. He pulled his hand away from Dean as if he had been burned. Even went so far as to take a step away from him. Maybe he did it in case Dean struck him, but when he reflected on it later, he knew he had taken that step to try and distance himself from the pain.

"You want me to talk Sammy?" Dean's voice was low and emotionless. It was a voice that Sam knew he would recognize if he ever ran into the living dead.

It was a voice that made his heart speed up and reflexively swallow back a little of the bile that was rising in his throat. Looking at Dean's face all Sam wanted to do was take back what he said, to plead for Dean's forgiveness and ask him to forget that he had said anything at all, that they _should _just go to bed. All that came out of his tightening throat was a hoarse, "No."

But, Sam's luck being just as bad as his brother's, Dean didn't appear to hear him.

"You want to know what's wrong?" Dean took a step forward and Sam shivered. He was right, this was going to be worse than the last time.

Dean's hollow voice seemed to cut through the night and absorb into the air making it feel cramped and heavy. "This. This is what's wrong Sammy." He grabbed Sam's wrist in an iron hold and advanced again. When he finally stopped he was close enough to feel Sam's heart beating inside his chest. But he didn't stop. He couldn't stop.

"The other night was a mistake. A stupid mistake that I made because I was angry. It can never happen again."

"But Dean..."

"I never want it to happen again." Sam's throat constricted painfully. He had long forgotten about the pain in his wrist. The pain in his heart would kill him first anyway.

"We're brothers Sam. Brothers. What we did was disgusting. It's my own fault for letting it go that far. I realize my mistake now. I should have just hit you. Should have just laid you out flat on your ass. Then we wouldn't have to be having this discussion right now. I wouldn't have to explain why what we did was wrong. But don't worry because it will never happen again." He emphasized his last three words with a squeeze of Sam's wrist and then he released it. As quickly as it had started it was over.

Dean's face went from its scary emptiness to anger and he turned away from Sam and crawled under the covers of his own bed.

Sam just stood in the middle of the room in shock. He felt as if he shouldn't even exist anymore. In fact his brain couldn't even comprehend that it was standing and he collapsed to the floor. His eyes were streaming tears that he couldn't even feel and his chest felt like it was being squeezed by a boa constrictor. He couldn't think, couldn't breath. Everything that he cared about, all of the happiness he had finally found had been ripped away by that emptiness. An emptiness that he hadn't known the depth of until this very moment.

'How...how...' Sam's brain puttered back to life struggling through the darkness surrounding his thoughts. 'How did I let it get so deep?'

Sam's brain finally kicked in and he felt so much worse. He wanted to throw up. He wanted to hurl things at the wall and step barefoot onto the sharp broken tiles littering the filthy bathroom floor.

Instead, he turned his head slowly and stared at the comforter that was blocking his brother from view. Stared at it until he finally regained a shattered piece of himself.

Standing slowly he braced himself against the side of the bed and hauled himself up from the floor. His entire body felt physically weak but it was nothing compared to the weakness in his heart. But instead of going out into the car or locking himself in the bathroom he pulled back the covers and laid his head on the smelly motel room pillow. He stared at the blue ceiling and for the first time he felt that maybe it wouldn't be so bad to be stuck to it with flames licking at his skin.

At least then the pain might be enough to take away the aching in his heart.

Next chapter I will try and get into more of Dean's thoughts during this whole thing I know the end is kind of Sam based. Anyways, I hope it wasn't too terrible. Please review.


	3. And They Say Violence Doesn't Solve

**Caged**

**Disclaimer: Once again, I do not own anything Supernatural related. Sucks doesn't it? **

Pairings: Sam/Dean, Wincest. Hope this is enough to get you coming back for more.

Summary: Sam and Dean resolve their problems the old fashioned way.

Author's note: Here's chapter 3. I have no idea how much longer I can keep this up but my muse hasn't run out on me just yet so I'll do my best to continue updating often. This might get a little confusing because it won't let me do my little dividers so it all sort of runs together. Sorry, I'm rambling. I'll just let you read and find out for yourself. Have fun...

**Chapter 3- And They Say Violence Doesn't Solve Anything**

* * *

Dean watched the silhouette of Sam's chest rise and fall in the early morning light. Sam had fallen asleep about five minutes after he had closed his eyes out of sheer emotional exhaustion but Dean hadn't been that lucky. Instead, he had been drowning in his thoughts for the past two hours.

Nothing he could come up with would explain why he had treated Sam so horribly. At the time, he had thought that he was doing the right thing. He had convinced himself that if he hurt Sam now then he couldn't hurt him worse later. Now...

Now he wasn't so sure. He sighed in frustration as he rolled over again, this time staring at the ceiling. However, when that raised bad memories he rolled over onto his side and stared at the open bathroom door instead.

The broken tiles from the sink still littered the floor and he vaguely wondered whether the motel would charge them for the damage. Then he remembered that him and Sam would be long gone before they even checked the room, and since they had used false ID's when they signed it there would be no way to track them down.

Dean continued to stare at the tiles for another five minutes before he decided that if he wasn't going to be getting any sleep he might as well get his ass out of bed. So, throwing the covers off, he sat up and swung his legs over the side. For a moment he just sat like that. Feet pressed firmly to the floor and hands on either side of him. Then, without warning, he was running for the bathroom and puking his guts out all over the inside of the ceramic toilet bowl.

* * *

After about three minutes he realized that he had nothing left to throw up and he attempted to make his way overto the sink, stumbling dangerously along the way. Finally his hands found purchase on the leaning sink and he braced himself as firmly as he could without ripping the cheap thing off its few remaining hinges. He cupped some of the water that dribbled out when he turned on the tap and used it to clean out the taste of bile in his mouth. When he finished doing that he turned on the bathroom light and began collecting his few scattered belongings from off the lip of the tub.

He didn't have very much to pack up so after he had shoved what he had grabbed into one of the bags by the bathroom door he pulled some not-quite-so dirty clothes out of one of his other bags and cautiously threw them on.

His eyes flew to Sam's form occasionally, watching to see if he would wake up and start screaming at him about what an asshole he was. God how he hoped that Sam would scream at him.

Instead when Sam awoke a few minutes after Dean had finished dressing he didn't say anything at all. He ran his shell-shocked eyes around the room briefly and when they took purchase of Dean packing he stood up silently and began to do so as well. Dean could only stand there helplessly and watch as his brother moved stiffly around the room with a sad, vacant expression on his face. Dean had no idea what he could say to Sam to make everything right again, so he said the first thing that came to his mind.

"Checkout's at 11." He flinched as soon as the words left his mouth. Sam just nodded slightly and went back to packing. Dean sighed and quietly walked up behind Sam who was continuing to pack. He made sure to leave at least 10 feet between them on the unlikely chance that Sam might take a swing at him.

He reached his hand out tentatively but stopped just short of Sam's shoulder when a quiet voice broke the silence. "Don't."

He pulled his hand back as if he had been burned and he knew that if Sam had been looking at him at that exact moment he would have seen the hurt flash through Dean's eyes. Lucky for Dean, Sam still had his back turned and was continuing to go about his business.

Dean resigned himself to cradling his hands by his sides and steeling himself. He knew he had to say something, anything, to get Sam to talk to him again. He just had no idea what it was going to be. He almost gave up trying anything and had started to turn and walk away when he stopped.

Sam and Dean had been in fights before, lots of fights actually, and Dean had never backed down once. 'So why the hell should I start now?' he thought venomously to himself. He knew that he couldn't stand riding in a car with a pissed off twenty-two year old for twelve hours and damn if he was going to do it without having some say about it first.

Of course a small part of him realized that last night he had shredded Sam into little bits and pieces and that he had no right to talk to him about anything unless it was to beg for forgiveness. However, the other half of him was sick of having Sam mad at him and thought that he could fix it the way he usually did. With a few smart remarks and a defensive attitude.

The problem was that he didn't fully realize that this wasn't like any of their other fights. He didn't realize that their fight last night had cut Sam open and he was bleeding out all over the floor even as they stood there. He didn't realize that Sam had seen his emptiness and that seeing it had been more painful than Dean's words could ever be. He didn't even realize that he had allowed the emptiness in him to grow and that the only thing that could ever fill it was standing not ten feet in front of him. No, he couldn't realize any of this because his pride and lack of emotional control when it came to his Sammy were getting in the way.

So, before he allowed himself time to think about his actions and their equitable consequences he covered that ten feet and grabbed Sam by the shoulders, using his momentum to turn him roughly.

"Alright look here. We are not sitting in a car for hours on end just because I got a little angry last night. Do you hear me?" Dean shook Sam hard for emphasis.

Sam didn't take the shake very well. Before Dean knew what was happening Sam had knocked his arms away and was in the process of tackling him in the stomach. Dean on the other hand was so shocked by Sam's sudden mood change that he couldn't defend himself and hit the floor hard cracking his head on the carpet.

It took him a few seconds to clear his vision and when he finally managed to get his wits about him again he lost them completely when Sam began straddling him.

For a second Dean's thoughts turned toward the other night and the passionate kiss they had shared and then he remembered that those kinds of thoughts were what had gotten him into this position in the first place. His brain was being so overloaded that he didn't even register the fact that Sam had hit him in the face. Or at least he hadn't until the pain started. Then he cried out with an indignant, "Hey!"

When he had finally focused enough to realize that Sam was serious he raised his arms up in defense of himself and quickly blocked any other shots that Sam was directing at him. After another minute the hunter instincts in him kicked in and he used Sam's position against him, effectively flipping their positions so that Dean was now straddling Sam.

Unfortunately for both of them Sam's anger had taken hold of him and he was still trying to lash out at Dean. He could no longer throw any viable punches so he had resorted to trying to twist Dean's arms while simultaneously attempting to buck him off.

He failed miserably at both though and Dean's superior strength soon won out over Sam's litheness, and almost as fast at it had started it was at an end. Dean grabbed Sam's arms in a moment of opportunity and effectively pinned them to the floor by his head, shoving them down to ensure complacency.

They were both breathing heavily and a nasty bruise had begun to form on the side of Dean's face. Sam struggled against Dean slightly and Dean put his face right next to Sam's, growling in his ear.

"Stop fighting me Sammy or I'm going to get really pissed off and it won't end well." Sam just looked up at him defiantly and stuck out his chin like a child would. Dean's heart beat picked up a notch. He wasn't sure if it was the adrenaline from the fight or if he was just not in his right emotional state, but Sam was looking pretty damn good to him at the moment.

The way that Sam's pupils had dilated and the hypnotic rhythm of his breathing were not helping Dean to keep control of himself any. Sure enough, the sight of Sam unconsciously licking his lips sent Dean over the edge. He could feel himself growing hard and he knew that soon enough Sam would be able to tell. He was, after all, straddling him and it was kind of hard not to notice something like that when it was pressing into their stomach. So in order to make things easier on himself and on Sam he spoke quickly.

"I'm going to let you up now. Do you promise not to go ape shit on me again?" Sam didn't respond he just lay calmly on the carpet as if nothing had happened.

The hair on the back of Dean's neck stood up at Sam's sudden complacency and he let go of Sam's wrists slowly. When Sam made no move to strike out at him he started to stand up. He had managed to lift himself about half way off of Sam's body when he felt his knees give out from a well placed punch. He stumbled backwards awkwardly before he managed to grab a hold of the corner of one of the mattresses. Sam meanwhile had regained his own footing and looked like a bull about to charge.

"This isn't over just because you say it is!" He practically spit the words out of his mouth as he rubbed his wrists delicately.

Dean decided that he had been nice enough and pushed himself to his full height. Even though he was shorter than Sam it didn't really make that much of a difference because his presence filled the room just as nicely.

"Actually it is. Look Sammy I don't know what the hell you've been smoking but you better calm your ass down, now, because I'm not going easy on you anymore. You want to do this, then come on. But I am not going to throw any punches just because you've decided to be a bitch!" Dean took a deep breath and then took a defensive stance.

Sam meanwhile hadn't said a word. He just stared at Dean as if he was the biggest asshole in the world. It was what Sam said next that confirmed that he was.

"You are such a bastard." Sam's anger seemed to disappear with those five words. In fact, he went into a complete meltdown.

"I'm the bitch? First you give me the best fucking kiss I've ever had. Make me think that you love me more than life itself, and then you tell me that I'm disgusting, and I'm the bitch?" Tears were slowly winding down Sam's face now and Dean could only stare in shock as Sam's words made their way into his brain.

"I didn't start this Dean! I didn't suddenly decide to kiss you one day! So tell me truthfully, did you just kiss me because you're horny? Huh? Can't get any good ass so you just decide to screw with my head? Did you think I wouldn't fucking care!"

Sam's voice filled with renewed anger and his fists clenched and unclenched at his sides as a sign of his repressed fury. He wanted nothing more than to lash out and beat the crap out of his brother but he knew that he wouldn't win and there was no way in hell that he wanted to sit in a car after this with bruises all over his body.

So instead of hitting Dean he paced the motel room carpet like a caged tiger. Dean watched him silently for a moment while he collected his own thoughts and tried to sort through everything that Sam had just confessed. When he was done he deflated like a balloon on a cold winter's day.

"Do you really think that?" His voice came out small and defeated. It was a voice that Sam had never heard before and he stopped mid pace. He looked at Dean in disbelief and knew that his jaw had just fallen open.

"What the hell am I supposed to think!" For emphasis he threw his hands into the air and stared at his brother as if he had three heads.

Dean just sighed resignedly. He was never one for emotional confrontation and the last three days had really tired him out. Add in the lack of sleep he had caught the previous evening and he was running on empty. All he wanted to do was get their shit in the car and haul ass out of this God forsaken town. Now he knew that before they could do that he had to sort through the shit he had gotten himself into with Sam. So, for the sake of time and emotional wear, he sat down on the bed and put his hands on his knees.

"What do you want me to say to make this okay again?" Dean looked up at Sam expectantly and not surprisingly Sam scoffed.

"You can't just make this better Dean. Do you even know how much what you said to me last night hurt? Do you even care!"

"Of course I care! You're my brother Sammy and I love you but this, I don't know what to do about any of this. Do you want me to say that I'm sorry? Do you want me to tell me that I was being stupid and that everything I said was a lie. That I'm scared shitless that you might leave me just like Dad did? Because I will. I'll say it if that's what you want to hear."

Sam snorted loudly in disbelief. "I don't want you to say it just because it's what I want to hear Dean! I want you to say it because you mean it. Just tell me the truth. Did you kiss me the other night because you wanted to kiss me, or did you do it because I was the only one around? Do you even care about me at all or are you just so desperate to have someone around that you simply had to settle with me?"

With everything out in the open the silence settled in. It grew and stretched like a living thing until Sam felt weak and had to sit himself onto his bed. He wanted nothing more than to get up and leave the room himself but more than anything he wanted to hear what Dean was about to tell him. So he sat there in the silence and prayed that it didn't suffocate him before he heard what Dean had to say.

Since neither of them had ever shared this much in such a short amount of time, Sam knew that they were both feeling the effects. Dean's jaw was a nice purple color now, but the circles under his eyes were what drew Sam's attention. He knew that he probably looked just as bad and hoped that Dean would say something soon just so that they could leave this place. Finally, Dean broke the silence that was threatening to drown them both.

"I've never wanted anyone else Sammy. The other night..." he closed his eyes and sighed loudly. Sam held his breath as he waited for Dean to continue.

"What happened the other night didn't just happen because you were convenient. What I said to you...it was all lies. Nothing we did disgusted me, in fact it was probably the best night of my life. I've wanted to kiss you since we were kids Sammy, I was just so fucking confused. Last night...I just thought that if I pushed you away then I could stop you from getting hurt. I can't be your perfect anything Sam. Everything I touch just disappears. I didn't want you to disappear too." The last of Dean's words came out with a resigned sigh and he looked up at Sam with what he could only describe as fear.

Sam couldn't speak. Couldn't even breath as Dean's words sunk in. So that was it. That was the big revelation. Dean was as afraid of losing Sam as Sam was of losing him. He would have breathed a sigh of relief if Dean hadn't just spilled his guts all over the pink carpet. Instead he settled for looking relieved.

"So, are we okay now?" For the first time since Sam could remember Dean sounded truly hopeful. He smiled slightly and went to sit beside his brother on the bed. Dean moved over to make room and looked at Sam expectantly.

Sam took a deep breath to steady himself and picked a particularly nice spot on the carpet to stare at. When he had finally sorted through enough of his emotions to be satisfied he raised his head and locked his eyes with Dean's.

"I can't tell you that everything is going to go back to normal now Dean. What you said...what you said really hurt. I can't just let it go. But for now, I think we'll be alright." He nudged Dean lightly with his shoulder and smiled lightly at him. Dean smiled back with his patented shit-eating grin and nudged him back.

"Then let's get out of this shit hole shall we?"

Sam nodded gladly and shoved the rest of his things into his bag slinging it over his shoulder with care and opened the door wide for Dean to walk through. Instead of walking through though Dean grabbed the door and from him and stood to the side. Sam nodded lightly and walked through into the morning sun opening the passenger side door and shoving his stuff into the back seat. Dean hopped in the driver's side and shoved his stuff out back as well. Slamming the car door he put the key in the ignition and revved the engine. He smiled cockily at Sam and blared the radio. As he squealed out of the parking lot and headed west he couldn't help but wonder what the hell they were going to do now. One of the things he knew for sure though was that he and Sam were going to be having more talks now. Except Dean wasn't going to be using any words to express how he felt about his not-so-little Sammy.

* * *

Alright, hopefully it didn't suck too bad. I'll get more into the Sam/Dean moments soon don't worry. Please review and remember, I don't take kindly to people who leave flames. 


	4. In Bar Fights and Bathroom Stalls

**Caged**

**Disclaimer: Once again I do not own anything Supernatural related. But oh how I wish I did.**

Pairings: Sam/Dean, That means Wincest folks so if you don't like, then don't read. Back to the good stuff.

Summary: Dean and Sam are back on the road again and decide to stop for a couple of drinks to clear the air. In true Winchester fashion however, things only get murkier.

Author's note: Yep it's me again. Writing that other story helped to clear the writing block it seems so here is Chapter four. WOW, never thought I would say that. Anyways, this chapter is dedicated to jka1 because it is with their suggestion that I write this. Hope it comes out okay...

Finally, I have no idea who sings "Take My Breath Away" or if that's even the song title, but it doesn't belong to me either way so don't sue.

**Chapter 4- In Bar Fights and Bathroom Stalls**

* * *

They had been driving for days and they had barely gotten past pleasant small talk.

Even after all that had been said Dean still felt awkward and Sam still felt betrayed. Neither one of them could come up with a good enough topic to stay on for longer than a few minutes so after a few hours they had settled into an uncomfortable silence. The only reason they both hadn't gone crazy yet was because Led Zeppelin had taken on the charge of filling the silence between them. And now, after hours on end, Sam was still about to lose his mind.

The sun had set about three hours previous and Sam was getting tired of staring at the same damn cornfields blanketed by darkness. Finally he couldn't take it anymore and reached out his hand to turn off the radio.

"Hey, it was just getting to the good part!" Dean glared at Sam for a moment before focusing his gaze back on the road. Sam just sighed in response.

"Look Dean, this is getting ridiculous. Either we stop for the night or I'm going to blow my brains out all over your nice leather upholstery."

It was Dean's turn to sigh.

"Fine. The next motel I see I'll stop."

"Good." And with that the silence settled itself between them once again.

* * *

It was another hour and a half before they saw any sign of civilization at all. The only problem was that the civilization they came upon consisted of a bunch of motorcycles parked outside a run down old bar.

The glowing neon green sign hanging above the door read "Stinky Pete's" and Sam's mouth fell open in muted horror as Dean pulled the Impala in beside a rusty '86 Ford pickup and a brand new red Harley Davidson. Dean immediately opened the door to step out and Sam regained enough of his senses to grab him by the arm.

"You can't be serious. I thought you said we'd stop at a motel!" Dean glared at him quietly until Sam let go of his arm and then straightened his jacket before replying.

"I don't know if you've noticed Sammy but I haven't exactly seen any motels situated around here. So unless you want to sleep in the car tonight I suggest you let me go inside and ask somebody where the hell we are and where the nearest one might be." Sam's mouth opened to protest but when he saw the look on his brother's face he stifled it and opened the passenger side door instead.

Before he closed it though he steadied himself against the doorframe and pinned Dean with his own glare.

"It's Sam. And fine, but you're not going in there by yourself. Knowing you you'll end up three sheets to the wind before you even make it around to asking anyone." Dean snorted and shook his head.

"You know, you're probably right. But that's beside the point." Dean shut his own door loudly and started walking toward the door. "Move your ass Sammy or you're on your own for the night."

Sam just sighed loudly, shut his door, and flipped Dean off quietly behind his back before opening the door that Dean had just walked through. The smell of beer, bad breath, and something indistinguishable wafted into his face and he closed his eyes against the cigarette smoke. 'God, it's going to be one hell of a long night.'

* * *

Sam found Dean at the bar just like he knew he would. Dean had ordered a couple of beers and slid one over to Sam as soon as he sat down in the barstool next to him.

"I thought you said..." Sam had to shout to be heard over the country twang blasting from a couple of decrepit speakers that were hanging precariously on the ceiling on each side of the bar.

"I know what I said. I just figured that we could have a couple of beers first. You know, relax a little. You do remember what relaxing is right?" Sam rolled his eyes in response and took a sip of his beer. Dean meanwhile had set his sights to taking in the rest of the bar and when his eyes landed on the dartboard across the room he stood up abruptly.

"Come on, I'm going to have some fun." He grabbed lightly onto Sam's jacket and tried to drag him with him to the dartboard. Sam had other ideas though and lightly extricated Dean's hand from his sleeve.

"I don't think so Dean. I'm just going to finish my beer and then try to find out where the nearest motel is. You do know that is the real reason we're supposed to be here right?" Dean scowled at Sam's use of repetitive sarcasm and shrugged.

"Have it your way then." And with that he was making his way through the crowd, leaving Sam to stare after him and think about what the hell was wrong now.

* * *

Sam had been so ingrained in his thoughts that he didn't even notice when someone else suddenly filled the barstool that Dean had previously occupied. Of course it didn't help matters any that Sam had consumed more than the one beer he had told himself he would.

Now that he was on his third round and comfortably buzzed he wouldn't have noticed if Dean had come up to him wearing a pink sweater and singing the opening lines of "Take My Breath Away."

So, when another beer was placed in front of him he didn't really acknowledge the advance and simply picked it up and continued to drink. It would have gone on this way to if the someone that had sat down beside him didn't speak up first.

"Hi. How's it going? My name's David." Sam looked slightly taken back when a nicely manicured hand entered his vision. He looked at it hard for a minute before he swung his head to the right and noticed an extremely attractive young man smiling at him. The alcohol he had consumed might have dulled Sam's hunter instincts but his radar for good-looking guys hadn't failed him yet.

His brain quickly took in the stranger's brown eyes and longish blond hair before moving on to his slight build and tan skin. He looked nice enough, clean and everything, but Sam's mind couldn't quite connect that he was the one who had bought him the extra beer, and thus, offered the advance. So the first thing out of his mouth took them both a little by surprise.

"What the hell do you want?" The stranger known as David blinked for a second, smile faltering, before he lowered his hand slowly and chuckled a little.

"Well apparently not to get to know you or anything." It was Sam's turn to blink as he turned back around to face his beer, and then look back at David, and finally settle on the beer again.

"Did you do this?" He held the bottle up as if David needed clarification and looked at him hazily with a confused smile.

David's smile returned full force and he laughed again. "Yeah I did. Just thought that since it had been your beer of choice so far, that I couldn't really go wrong."

Sam nodded his head slowly in approval and when he found that nodding caused him to become a little unbalanced he stuck to smiling.

"Well thanks man, it's appreciated."

"No problem. So...I believe I've covered my name, what's yours?"

Sam's brow furrowed in thought for a moment trying to decide what to tell him. Finally, his brain decided that it just didn't have enough energy to come up with anything original so he just stuck with what he knew.

"My name's Sam. It's nice to meet you." He stuck his hand out cordially and smiled again as the blonde Adonis beside him shook it warmly.

"So Sam, what brings you here..."

* * *

Dean had been throwing darts for over an hour and he still had no idea what he was going to do to fix the rift that seemed to have widened between him and Sam.

He had thought that after the chick flick moment at the last motel everything would be fine again. Sam had even said it was. And yet here they were, Dean throwing darts pretending that the bulls-eye was Sam's face, and Sam sitting at the bar by himself.

Dean sighed quietly and scrubbed his hands over his face. "It's my own damn fault" he muttered under his breath. "Stupid Sam's got to go and be so damn hot."

He sighed again and resolved himself to fixing things up between Sam and him before they got back into the car. He was tired of the silence and wanted to put an end to it before they both went crazy. He picked up his beer from a nearby table and took another swig before turning around to head back toward the bar.

It was then that he noticed that Sam was no longer alone. In fact he was probably the farthest thing from being alone that he could be.

Sitting next to his brother was one of the most beautiful men that Dean had ever seen and he was only seeing him in profile. Now, Dean could forgive the guy for looking handsome, he could even forgive him for talking to Sam, but as soon as he saw him nudge Sam playfully with his shoulder all bets were off.

Dean forgot all about his beer as he made his way across the bar in record time. He had consumed as many beers as Sam but wasn't even close to being buzzed. No, he was running on pure jealousy at the moment.

It was the strength of that jealousy that had Sam sobering up fast as he felt Dean's presence behind him. When he turned around he was faced with a look of the most terrifying controlled fury he had ever seen.

"What the _fuck_ is going on here?" Dean's voice had lowered in pitch and Sam shivered at the icy tone. He had never heard Dean more pissed off in his life. It wasn't as terrifying as the emptiness but it was damn close.

Sam opened his mouth to try and calm Dean down when he heard a voice pipe up first. He tried to think of who could be so blind as to not notice the pulsing ball of repressed fury standing right in front of them.

"Who the hell are you?" It was David. Sam closed his eyes as he waited for Dean to either pounce on the guy or beat the crap out of Sam. Before either could happen though Sam tried to diffuse the situation.

"It's nothing Dean. I was just having a conversation." David looked at him questioningly.

"What's going on here Sam, who is this guy?" He put his hand on Sam's in a protective gesture that at any other time Sam would have been grateful for. At the moment however, he knew that David had just poked the proverbial tiger with a stick. A very large, very pointy stick.

It had the desired effect of it too. Faster then either of them could register Dean had grabbed David's wrist and twisted sharply. Nothing popped, for which Sam was eternally grateful, but he knew it was only a matter of time before Dean lost all control and started beating on something. He decided to become the martyr and draw Dean's attention away from David.

"Dean, stop. You're hurting him! Just let him go and we'll leave." He grabbed onto the wrist that was slowly continuing to twist David's and pulled on it. It had the effect of trying to move a ten ton boulder. Instead of getting him to let go Dean just turned his glare on him. Sam froze like a deer in the headlights. When Dean was satisfied that Sam had gotten his point he turned his attention back to the scrawny boy in front of him.

His brain registered the fact that the kid couldn't be any older than Sam but at the moment he didn't really care. All he cared about was the fact that the hand he was trying to detach had dared to touch his Sammy. All of the control that he had been maintaining was slowly beginning to slip and suddenly he didn't want to just break David's wrist, he wanted to mangle his entire body.

As if Sam could sense the change taking place in his brother he did the only thing left that he could think of. He lowered himself underneath their locked arms and slowly situated himself in between David and the now homicidal Dean.

It took a moment for Dean to register the fact that a very tall somebody was now blocking his view of his target. When he looked up to see who was crazy enough to stand between him and his kill his green eyes locked with those of his brothers.

* * *

Sam was getting extremely anxious. The energy that his brother seemed to be unconsciously giving off was prickling along Sam's skin and making his breath hitch. He could feel the fabric of Dean's leather jacket brushing against his arm, and the weight of Dean's eyes was giving him goose bumps. For a moment Sam wondered if he had just made the situation worse for both him and David.

However, when he heard David's gasp of shocked relief at having his wrist back Sam almost sighed. That is until the full weight of Dean's fury came to rest on him.

Before Sam knew what was happening Dean had grabbed him roughly by the arm and was shoving him in the direction of the bathrooms. He tried to catch Dean's eye again and ask him what the hell he was doing but he didn't have enough concentration to do that _and_ stay on his feet.

Soon enough he was being slammed roughly into the bathroom doors and without so much as a squeak they opened to reveal a mildly clean restroom. Sam thanked God for small favors.

There were a couple of guys using the urinals in the corner when they slammed in but as soon as they took one look at Dean's face and heard him bellow, "OUT!" they barely took the time to zip up before they beat a hasty retreat.

Dean shoved Sam roughly into one of the sinks before turning around and locking the door. The sound reverberated ominously throughout the room as Dean turned around to face his brother.

* * *

Sam was breathing heavily from both the physical exertion of having to practically run to stay ahead of Dean, and the emotional energy it was taking to simply stand in the same room as him.

Dean had taken stock of this as well and the nice flush that Sam's cheeks had taken on. Sam's panting coupled with his flushed cheeks and slightly glossy eyes only served to both further enrage and further arouse Dean.

"What the fuck did you think you were doing Sammy?" Dean's voice hadn't lost its icy chill from the bar and Sam would have taken a step back if the sink hadn't been there to deter him. As it was, he could only stand helplessly as Dean advanced on him.

"Did you think that because we had a little fight that you could just go whore yourself out to the highest bidder?" Sam opened his mouth in indignation and his own anger made him stand a little taller.

"I wasn't whoring myself out to anyone. He bought me a drink Dean, we were just talking. Besides, since when am I not allowed to talk to someone. You don't own me Dean!" Dean's eyes narrowed angrily and his muscles tensed as he grew closer.

"See, that's where you're wrong Sammy. I do own you. You've been mine since you were 2 months old and I carried you out of that fire. And no one, especially not some pretty boy in a bar is going to put his foul hands anywhere near you."

By this time Sam had lost his height and Dean seemed to have gained it as they stood little more than a foot apart. The sink had come to terms with the fact that it now had to support some of Sam's weight and Sam had come to terms with the fact that he had probably done something stupid even if it hadn't been his intention to do so.

"Look Dean, I'm sorry. I didn't know that I was doing anything wrong. We were just talking. He bought me a beer, that's it."

Dean laughed mirthlessly and took a step closer so that Sam could now smell the alcohol on his brother's breath. It wasn't nearly strong enough to indicate that he was drunk and Sam begun to fully realize how extremely screwed he was.

"_I wasn't doing anything wrong. He just bought me a beer_." Dean mocked cruelly. "Give me a break Sammy you were falling all over yourself in front of him and he had his hands all over you. Do you think I'm stupid? I don't care if he was the most beautiful guy on the planet, he doesn't have a right to touch what's mine." To bring his point home Dean wrapped his hand in Sam's hair and pulled his down to eye level. "Mine" he growled before he finally smashed Sam's lips together with his and kissed him roughly. Sam was so taken by surprise that he didn't fight it at first. Then, after what Dean had said finally sunk in, he pushed Dean as hard as he could away from him. Dean had been expecting it though and he only stumbled back a couple of feet.

"Touch what's yours? I'm yours now? What, so suddenly another guy finds me attractive and suddenly I'm yours! It doesn't work like that Dean! You can't just lay a claim once another guy comes calling!" He threw his hands up in exasperation and anger.

"Wrong again Sammy..."

"It's Sam!"

Dean continued on as if he hadn't even heard him. "You were mine before you even realized you had grown up. You were mine when you fell off your bike when you were ten. You were mine when you had your first kiss, and you were mine when you first started to grow facial hair. You've always been mine Sam, you just didn't realize it. Now...now it's time to make you see, time to make everyone see. That way there will be no more mistakes that you belong to me and no one else can ever touch you again."

With that said Dean covered the space between them again and collided with Sam in a wave of lust, fury and undying love. His teeth ripped and where blood spilled Sam simply licked it up and attacked with equal viciousness. At this moment, in this place, tenderness wasn't a concern.

All that either of them knew was that if they didn't get the aggression out somehow they were going to eat each other alive.

* * *

Alright, I know I'm evil for stopping there but I promise the next chapter will be better. I'm just exhausted and not really sure how far I want them to take it in the bathroom of a bar. I will try and post as quickly as possible and not make the next chapter too crappy. I do have to warn you though that this is my first real slash fic as well as my first romance fic so go easy on me. Try not to kill me and I promise the next chapter will be worth the wait. 


	5. Pillows and Perseverance

**Caged**

**Disclaimer: Yep I own them. Just kidding. Please don't sue.**

Pairings: Sam/Dean, as if you didn't know by now.

Summary: Dean and Sam try and make it out of the bar alive and a humorous nighttime chat that involves inanimate objects ensues.

Author's Note: Well here I am again. Still alive. Amazing huh? So, this chapter is going to be pretty packed so if you get confused at all just e-mail or message me. I don't even know where it's going to go really because I'm been trying to write this in since Chapter 2. Anyways, I'm doing my best to stay on top of things and hopefully the momentum will continue. Hope you all enjoy and don't forget to press that little review button there at the bottom, it makes my day. Oh yeah and I have no beta so all mistakes are my own, yada yada yada. Finally, please excuse the language used in this chapter but it had to be used to fit with the character...

**Chapter 5- Pillows and Perseverance**

* * *

Sam broke apart first. The metallic taste in his mouth was beginning to make him slightly nauseous and Dean's ability to pull the air right out of his chest was starting to make him feel slightly light-headed.

Dean on the other hand was busy staring at Sam and holding him with a look that said he was going to rip him apart if he thought that they were done. Sam swallowed convulsively at that look and was about to show Dean just who the dominant one was when a loud series of knocks on the bathroom door brought them both out of their lust filled haze.

* * *

For a moment they just stood there wondering whether they should open it or not. Obviously the entire bar had seen Dean pushing Sam into the bathroom and most likely they had also seen the other men exiting quickly after they had entered. That meant that the bar patrons either thought that they were duking it out or that they were doing something else entirely. Something that required a lot of privacy. And as much as Sam and Dean would have loved to have continued making out, they both knew that if anyone else knew what they were doing then as soon as they opened that door they were going to get their asses kicked. But not in the rough-you-up-a-little kind of way, more like the beat-you-until-you're-dead kind of way.

Sam and Dean looked at each other for a minute before Sam said the first thing that came to his mind.

"Hit me."

For a minute Dean just stared at him. Then without anymore warning than a nod he brought his fist back and slammed it into Sam's nose.

Almost immediately the blood started to flow and Sam couldn't help but yell a quite distinctive "Son of a Bitch!" into the empty bathroom air.

The knocking stopped almost immediately. With the unspoken, but clearly understood, plan in place Dean went to unlock the door.

* * *

Outside stood four angry bikers and a confused waitress. The lead biker, that happened to be about twice the size of the other bikers, looked like he was about to beat the living hell out of Dean, when he glanced over his shoulder at the bloodied Sam. His brow furrowed in confusion for a minute as if he couldn't quite figure out what he should do. So, in true Dean fashion, he filled the space with something stupid that would ultimately lead to making the situation ten times worse.

"What the hell do you think you're doing!" The biker that had been examining Sam quickly focused on the man in front of him again.

"What the hell is going on in there?" His voice boomed low and he clenched his fists menacingly at his sides. Dean just glared at him and then shoved him rudely in the shoulder.

"Not that it's any of your fucking business but I was teaching this guy some manners!"

* * *

Sam could have hit him. As it was all he could do was hold a bunch of nasty toilet paper to his nose and hope that the majority of the blood ran out of his nose and not down his throat.

He knew Dean was slightly suicidal but this was ridiculous. The guy must have been at least three times Dean's size and the weight of a small elephant. But apparently Dean gave this no consideration because there he was shoving the guy and telling him, in no uncertain terms, to fuck off.

Sometimes Sam really thought that his brother was a moron.

* * *

Dean meanwhile didn't even bat an eye. He was used to guys like this thinking that they could intimidate anyone they wanted too just because they were huge. But as Dean knew, in certain circumstances, size wasn't everything. And the fact that this guy was three times bigger than him didn't matter in the slightest. A few well placed kicks and an uppercut and he would be down and out just like everybody else.

* * *

The biker hadn't said a word since Dean had yelled at him and Dean began to think that he must have suffered some kind of brain damage with the amount of time it took him to form a thought. When he finally did manage to partially absorb what Dean had said, and gave him and Sam another once over, he stepped to the side and nodded at them.

"Sorry, thought you two might have been fags or something."

Dean looked like he was about to say something else, and Sam knew that whatever he said wouldn't be any better than before, so he reacted before Dean had time too.

"Hey, it's no problem. We were just leaving." Sam's voice came out a little garbled from the lack of air getting through his nostrils but he seemed to have been understood fine because the biker nodded at him. Sam looked at Dean to see what he was going to do next.

Dean didn't start a fight like Sam had thought he might, instead he just grabbed Sam by the arm and yanked him out of the bathroom and back into the bar.

Then they made their way around the tables to get to the exit. Dean glanced back about halfway to the door and noticed that the head biker was still staring at them. He scowled a little and focused his gaze on the red neon "exit" sign quietly pushing Sam to walk a little faster.

* * *

"I told you to hit me not break my fucking nose!" Sam was still holding the toilet paper to his face and the bridge of his nose had started to swell to a nice purple color. Dean spared him a glance and then focused on the road again.

"You're fine Sam. Besides I had to make it look like I beat the shit out of you. It's not like they were going to take my word for it." Sam just scowled as hard as he could without scrunching his face up too badly.

* * *

They had been driving for almost twenty minutes and there was still no motel in sight. They hadn't had time in their rush to exit the bar to ask for directions so they had just decided to keep driving until they found something. Now they had begun to wonder if it had really been such a great idea.

They sat quietly for a few more minutes while the radio static buzzed innocuously in the background until finally Sam snapped.

"What the hell _was_ that Dean?" He had meant for it to come out as a shout, or an accusation, but instead it came out quiet and defeated.

At first Dean had thought that he meant the punch to the face but one look at Sam's face and he knew that Sam was referring to something else entirely.

Sighing loudly, Dean pulled the car to the side of the road. He knew that Sam would want to talk about what had happened eventually but he had really been hoping that he would wait until they at least found a motel room for the night. Wasn't optimism a bitch?

* * *

When he had settled the Impala far enough onto the shoulder to avoid any accidents or flying rocks he turned to face his brother.

Sam looked even worse than he had five minutes ago. His nose was swelling and his face was a mix of black and purple, but it didn't look like there were any bones out of place so Dean knew he could deal without treatment for a little while longer.

"I told you back at the bar Sam, you're mine. I'm not just going to allow random guys to hit on you anymore. Hell, I probably won't even let random girls hit on you." He laughed a little to try and diffuse the tension but Sam just stiffened even more and Dean knew that they were going to get into it again.

But instead of Sam yelling and ranting at him about how he wasn't his property and how he wasn't allowed to decide whom he could flirt with, Sam just sighed.

"You can't break the wrist of every person that tries to talk to me Dean. I mean, we're supposed to be helping people not causing them bodily harm."

Dean scoffed loudly. "You weren't trying to help that guy Sam. At least not in the way that we help people. Besides, I'm not going to break everybody's wrist, just the ones that physically touch you."

Now it was Sam's turn to scoff. "I'm not going to reply to that because I know you're joking, but seriously Dean I don't even know what to classify us as. We're brothers, sure, I know that. But what the hell is this? Are we lovers, boyfriends, fuck buddies... What?"

"Well Sam, I hate to break this to you but we haven't actually had sex yet. You do know what that is right, two people that love each other very much..."

Dean stopped talking when he received a smack in the arm and a glare from Sam.

"Ha ha, very funny Dean. Yes I know what sex is, what I meant was where exactly do you see this going?"

"Honestly Sammy..."

"Sam..."

"Whatever. I want us to be together. Now, what you want to classify that as is up to you. Personally, I don't think there is a word for what we are. All I know is that you're everything to me. And I swear to God if you ever tell anyone I said that I will have to kill you."

Sam laughed softly and Dean's face lit up.

"So, does that answer your question? Can I find us a place to sleep tonight or do you want to sleep in the car again?"

Sam scoffed loudly. "Hell no."

"What? There is nothing wrong with my car."

"Yeah, maybe when you are only 6'0 tall, but I've got at least four inches on you and folding myself like a contortionist to get a good night's sleep is not my idea of a good time."

Dean scowled slightly but decided to let Sam's rib on their height difference slide for the time being. He was just glad that Sam didn't want to bear his soul anymore.

"Alright then let's find us a cheap place to sleep."

Dean started the car back up and the engine roared to life just before the squealing of tires could be heard cutting into the night.

* * *

As usual, Dean was the first one through the door.

Taking a quick look around he took stock of the fact that this motel looked exactly like all of the others that he had ever stayed in throughout his life. It had two beds, both with questionable sheets, a bathroom and a small table set up by the window. The only difference being that this room was wallpapered in an ugly burgundy color that made the room seem almost claustrophobic. He closed his eyes against the sight of it for a moment before he threw his stuff next to the bed closest to the door and flicked on the lights.

Sam came in a moment later lugging his own bag. Unlike Dean though he didn't even bother looking around, he just moved to the bed farthest from the door and collapsed onto it with his arms spread wide. Neither one noticed the pattern that they fell flawlessly into.

* * *

Sam had been trying to sleep for the past two hours but the image of the feral look that he had seen in Dean's eyes back at the bar was solidly imprinted in his mind and wouldn't leave him alone.

He rolled over again for what had to be the twentieth time and sighed loudly.

Dean was sleeping like a baby in the other bed and Sam scowled at him in the dark. He had never been able to fall asleep as quickly as Dean did, even before the nightmares. It was nights like this that made Sam want to do everything in his power to keep Dean awake so that he would be as tired as Sam was in the morning.

It was that thought that made Sam involuntarily grab the extra pillow next to him and throw it across the room to land squarely on top of Dean's face.

* * *

Dean awoke faster than anyone or anything Sam had ever seen and Sam's mouth fell open in shock at what he had just done.

Dean meanwhile was busy grabbing for the knife under his own pillow and swearing nonsensically. Sam would have laughed if he wasn't absolutely terrified that Dean might stab himself accidentally.

"Dean! Dean!" Once he was sure that he had his attention Sam added, "Everything's fine."

"What happened? Are you alright?" Dean still looked sleepy and adding in the bed head and the fact that he was still holding his knife, Sam was sure that is family had never been normal.

"I'm fine Dean. I just...hityouwithapillow." The words spilled out of his mouth so fast that even his own ears couldn't process what he had said. So it was no surprise to Sam when Dean raised an eyebrow at him.

"You want to try that again Sammy. This time in English."

"Not really." Dean just sat there staring at him though and Sam finally relented with a loud sigh. "Fine. I said that I hit you with a pillow. That's why you woke up."

Dean continued to stare at him blankly for a minute. Then he lowered the knife and took a good hard look at the spare pillow that was now laying on his legs. When he was done with that he looked back to Sam again.

"You hit me with a pillow?" To Sam's relief his voice didn't sound angry, more amused than anything else.

"Yeah, sorry." Sam's eyes focused on the bedspread and thanked whatever God might be listening that the lights were still off. He knew for a fact that Dean would rag on him for blushing so hard.

"So do you want to tell me why you hit me with a pillow or should I just start guessing?" Dean's voice still sounded amused and he had replaced the knife under the pillow so that he was now empty handed and leaning casually on his elbows.

"I said I was sorry can't you just leave it at that?" Sam's voice had become angry and he had shifted so that his back was facing Dean.

Dean's laugh filled the dark room and Sam blushed harder.

"Sorry Sammy, that's not the way it works. You only get to be pissy if I throw the pillow at you, not the other way around."

"It's Sam."

"Whatever."

Sam could hear Dean's weight shifting on the bed beside him and he knew what Dean was going to do before he even did it. So he did the only thing he could do, he shut his eyes.

* * *

A second later the light from the dying lamp clicked on beside him and Sam huffed loudly. With a muffled "For Christ Sake" he sat up and glared at Dean, only squinting slightly from the new illumination.

"What the hell Dean! Just drop it!"

"You need to calm the hell down right now dude before you make me do something I'm going to regret." Dean's voice brooked no argument and Sam felt himself relaxing.

"Sorry."

"Yeah, you've said that already. So, once again, why did you just hit me with your pillow?"

Sam took a deep breath. He really didn't feel like explaining his actions but he knew that Dean wouldn't relent until he had an answer.

"Because I'm tired of being the only one that doesn't get any sleep around here. I just thought that if you were tired too then maybe I wouldn't feel so horrible." Sam's chest constricted slightly with the truth of his words and he hugged his knees. The warmth from the blanket seemed to have disappeared and Sam suddenly felt very cold.

* * *

Dean was quiet for a moment after Sam's confession. He knew that Sam didn't get the sleep he needed because of the nightmares but he wasn't aware that Sam was angry at him for being able to do what he couldn't.

He rubbed his forehead to try and relieve the headache that was forming but stopped when he realized it wasn't really helping any. With a final sigh, Dean stood up and positioned himself beside Sam on the opposite bed.

"Look dude, I'm sorry that I haven't really been paying that much attention to your sleeping habits lately but I can't read your mind either. You've got to tell me this shit, I'm not just going to be able to guess."

Sam looked at him and Dean noticed the slight blush covering his cheeks. Dean chuckled slightly but didn't comment on it. The last thing he needed right now was for Sam to get all huffy again and hit him with another pillow.

"You're right Dean, I don't know what got into me. I'm not even that mad, I just..." He shrugged his shoulders and gave Dean a look that was pleading for understanding.

"Yeah I get it. It's been a weird couple of nights. We're both wound a little too tight." Sam nodded and slackened the grip that he had on his knees.

For a few minutes silence reigned. Neither one of them had anything left to say but they didn't really know what they were supposed to do next.

* * *

Sam was the first one to speak. His voice was quiet with a hint of shyness to it. The combination of the two emotions had Dean looking at him with questioning eyes of his own.

"Well, since we're both awake now anyways, did you want to maybe..."

"Maybe what?" Dean knew exactly what Sam wanted to do but he had to hear him say it. He was tired of Sam questioning him every time he made a move, but if Sam was the one to start it then he couldn't be confused about it later. At least not in the way that had him blaming Dean.

Sam blushed more ferociously and bit his lip a little before he seemed to gather his strength and look Dean directly in the eyes.

"Finish what we started." Dean would have laughed at the look of deep concentration on Sam's face if it hadn't been for Sam's hands smoothly gliding up his arm.

He watched the fingers play across his skin for a second before he replied.

"Are you sure you want to?" Sam answered his question by unfolding his legs and transferring his weight to his knees. Then he gently turned Dean's face so that he was looking at him.

"Yeah Dean, I'm sure."

And with those four words Sam leaned in the last few centimeters and kissed Dean lightly on the lips. It was sweet and gentle and it took Dean's breath away.

* * *

Author's Note: Okay, this did not go the way I had planned it. Originally it was going to be an angsty chapter but well, you see how that turned out. Anyways, I will be posting more regularly this week hopefully so please keep checking back. I love all of you that have reviewed so far and I beg your forgiveness for making you wait so long. I hope it was at least somewhat worth it. 


	6. Bitching and Moaning

**Caged**

**Disclaimer: Nothing related to Supernatural belongs to me. Damn it all to hell...**

Pairings: Sam/Dean, yep that means Wincest folks, so if you don't like it then don't read it.

Summary: Sam tries to make it up to Dean for hitting him with the pillow.

Author's Note: I beg for forgiveness and bow my head in shame for taking so long to update this. With finals and all that other crap...no excuses, I should have finished this sooner. I can only hope that this entire thing isn't complete crap and that people are still reading this. And although I am completely unworthy, I ask that you still review, even if it is to rag on me for taking so long. Alright, on with the story...

**Bitching and Moaning**

* * *

Dean had to bite back a moan as Sam began to explore every inch of his mouth with a precision that belied the innocence that Dean had always thought of Sam as possessing.

With every stroke Dean's control began to disappear and soon enough he was pressing himself insistently into Sam's chest. Unfortunately for him, Sam had other ideas and every time that he pushed Sam would pull away before repeating his slow torture of Dean's mouth. It didn't take long for Dean to get fed up.

"Come on Sammy. You said you wanted to finish what you started, so finish it." Dean was panting slightly and his lips were puffy from Sam's attention but Sam simply regarded him with a closed expression of lust and pushed on Dean's shoulders until he was lying flat on the bed.

"Now, now Dean, don't be so impatient. I promise I will make you so hot that you'll beg for me, but we are going to do this at my pace, not yours. So sit back and enjoy while I savor every inch of you, all right?"

Dean didn't bother to bite back his moan this time as his head hit the mattress behind him.

He didn't even have time to give a proper response before Sam was latching onto his lips again and sucking the air from his lungs. And instead of the slow pace that Sam had been setting before he seemed intent on showing Dean precisely what he meant by 'finishing what you start.' Of course Dean wasn't complaining one bit because all that he could feel was Sam's chest pushing him into the mattress while his long legs had formed a vice grip on Dean's outer thighs.

* * *

After a few minutes of bone jarring kisses Sam pulled away and simply stared down at Dean. They were both starting to sweat and the light from the dying lamp illuminated Sam from behind in an almost angelic fashion. Dean's heart practically stopped at the picture he made.

"God, do you even know how beautiful you are?" As soon as the words left his lips he could feel himself blushing. But he wasn't the only one. Sam's face took on a flattering pink color and he ducked his head a little so that his bangs fell into his eyes.

"Shut up Dean you don't know what you're talking about." But even though Sam rejected Dean's words with a simple brush off he bent down and kissed him for all he was worth. All of his love and passion went into that kiss and Dean couldn't have been happier.

* * *

Sam's hands soon found the bottom of Dean's blue t-shirt and began tugging on it gently. Dean complied by raising himself off the bed by his elbows and giving Sam the space he needed to pull the shirt the rest of the way off of his body.

He shivered a little when the sweat on his chest cooled in the motel room air but quickly found that Sam's body heat was sufficient enough to warm him back up again. He leaned forward a little more and pulled Sam close enough to whisper in his ear.

"God you make me so hot. No one else but you Sam." Sam licked his bottom lip subconsciously and rubbed his cheek against Dean's.

Sam took a moment to compose himself as best he could before he pulled Dean's earlobe into his mouth and gently tongued it.

"Only you Dean" was his reply before he moved farther south and began sucking on his neck, dispersing his kisses with tiny licks and gentle bites. Dean leaned his head to the side so Sam could have better access and moaned so loud it almost came out as a growl.

All he could get out was a deep "Sam" before he pulled him away and began attacking his mouth with renewed vigor.

The sounds of their pleasure soon grew so loud that Dean was proud of himself for requesting a room away from any other patrons, even if he did get a funny look from the motel receptionist/obvious drug addict.

Sam hissed loudly as Dean practically tore his shirt from his body and began ravaging his nipples.

"Hey, I really liked that shirt" Sam said between pants.

"Then, I'll buy you a new one" was Dean's reply between licks. Sam just moaned in response.

* * *

Pretty soon Dean became impatient with Sam's "my pace" rule and his hands began traveling lower. Somehow he doubted that Sam was really going to mind the fact that he was technically breaking one of Sam's unspoken rules: Sam was in charge.

Unfortunately, Dean underestimated Sam's lack of resolve and was therefore a little put off when Sam grabbed his hands and pushed him back into the mattress rather roughly while pinning Dean's arms above his head.

"You really don't like to listen do you?"

"I would think that you would have picked up on that by now Sam" Dean's voice was nothing more than a growl of words but Sam wasn't intimidated. All he did was smile and slowly start making his way down Dean's chest while continuing to brace his arms.

"Guess I'm just going to have to punish you for disobeying me then, aren't I?" Sam was grinning at Dean with the shit-eating grin that Dean usually hated with a passion. And right now wasn't any different.

"Didn't I ever teach you not to play with fire Sammy?"

Sam chuckled at him and took a nipple into his mouth. Dean's hips bucked in response. Once he was done with the left nipple he kissed his way slowly across to the right and began to lick it equally slow. Dean's panting only seemed to heighten Sam's pleasure as he began to gently bite Dean's nipple until it hardened painfully. When Sam was satisfied with those he began to move farther south until he reached Dean's belly button.

"I'm warning you Sammy, don't do it unless you plan on finishing this soon."

"Or what?" Sam was smiling devilishly as he hovered over Dean's navel and Dean's eyes lit up with lust.

"Or you're going to be the one on your back with your hands pinned to the mattress. That's what."

"I'll take my chances." And with that Sam's tongue darted out and began torturing Dean's navel. It wasn't as easy as he thought it was going to be keeping Dean restrained though because every time his tongue swirled around Dean's belly button Dean's hips would fly about an inch off from the bed. Pretty soon Sam was so busy trying to brace the sides of his elbows on Dean's hips, while keeping Dean's hands secured, that he lost his grip and found himself staring at the ceiling instead of Dean's luscious skin.

"I told you Sammy but you just didn't want to listen." Dean tsked at him before attacking his mouth until they were both breathless.

Soon enough Sam came to the realization that Dean's tongue had been wasted all these years on petty insults and should have been put to good use sooner.

"Dean..." Sam was panting and his heart was beating a mile a minute but he still couldn't bring himself to beg. Dean was always good at reading him though and knew exactly what it was that he didn't want to say.

"Uh uh Sammy, I'm going to make you beg for it, just like you were going to make me. Guess you'll remember to listen to me next time won't you?" Sam moaned helplessly as Dean captured Sam's hands in one of his own and used the other one the start plucking at Sam's left nipple.

Sam began making noises that would make a porn star proud though and Dean soon began losing control. Using a kiss as a distraction he wormed his hand between them and started to unbutton Sam's jeans. But at this point Sam would have gladly burned his pants off if it would help and he began pushing into Dean's warm hand.

Dean's hand found the zipper, and with a little maneuvering on both their parts, was able to pull it down without incident. He was honestly surprised to find out that Sam wasn't wearing any underwear.

"Since when do you go commando?"

Sam laughed quietly at Dean's bewilderment. "Since we first kissed. I thought it would be easier for both of us."

Dean laughed loudly and kissed Sam again before tugging on the zipper of his own jeans.

"I always knew you were the smart one in the family."

* * *

Dean's own jeans proved to be a bit more of a problem.

"Just let me..."

"Hey, I said I've got it..."

"You're such a stubborn asshole."

"But isn't that one of the reasons you love me." Dean grinned cheekily at him and Sam just rolled his eyes.

"You know we could be doing something much more productive right now if you would just let go of my hands."

"And let you get the upper hand again, no way dude. Sorry, but you're just going to have to wait a minute."

Dean began tugging more forcefully on the zipper. Sam however, would not be deterred by Dean's stubbornness and bit his lip thoughtfully before an idea struck him.

"Oh, Dean..."

"What!" Dean's voice sounded distracted and angry but Sam showed no reluctance in trying to gain his full attention. In fact, Dean's anger only made him want to try harder in gaining Dean's attention.

* * *

"Dean."

"I said what!" When Dean looked down to see what Sam was bugging him for he instantly grew harder. So hard in fact that the zipper began to bite into his skin and the urgency to remove his jeans was renewed.

Sam had on his most seductive face. Pouty lips and pink cheeks had greeted Dean along with tousled hair and bedroom eyes. Dean had waited practically his entire life to receive that look from Sam and now that he had it, having Sam under his control suddenly didn't seem so damn important.

And when Sam rolled his hips seductively against Dean's growing erection he threw all caution to the wind and released Sam's hands so fast you would have thought that they were on fire.

Sam just smiled and took advantage of his newly regained freedom by grabbing onto Dean's hips and tugging down his jeans. Unlike Sam, Dean was wearing black boxer briefs instead of simply skin. Sam raised an eyebrow and Dean returned his own patented shit-eating grin.

"Thought you might like a little surprise in your life." Sam snorted gracefully.

"Surprise my ass, you just want me to work for it" he mumbled. It was Dean's turn to snort.

"Now why would I do that?"

Sam ignored him and continued tugging on the denim until it was down past Dean's bended knees. Before he went any further he admired the curve of Dean's pelvic bone and the flush of his slightly tanned skin. He ran his fingers lightly over the pale hairs running down Dean's lower stomach before blowing a small puff of air into his navel. When he trailed his eyes upward he caught Dean's eyes and held his breath.

Dean's face was serious and the intensity in his eyes was not so much surprising, as it was

potent. It was like he was inspecting Sam's soul to see if either of them was worthy. Then he did something so unexpected that it shook Sam to the core.

He ran his hands up Sam's arms lightly before cradling Sam's face and running his thumbs across his cheekbones. Then he gently pulled Sam forward so that their faces were mere centimeters apart before whispering intimately against his lips.

"I love you." And with that said he pulled Sam into the most gentle, heart felt kiss either of them had ever had. It was everything that Sam had ever hoped for and his heart almost broke with the joy of it. But instead of breaking down entirely he let a single tear fall down his cheek before pulling away from Dean.

He stared at Dean much the same way that Dean had stared at him and when Dean leaned back in for another kiss he stopped him and held his face fiercely in his hands.

"I love you too Dean. More than you could ever know." Dean just smiled and moved his hands towards Sam's thighs.

But before he could move any closer he felt, more than heard, a noise from his back jean pocket. He frowned slightly before pulling his arm around and removing his cell phone. One look at the screen and Dean's face became still and closed off.

"Dean? What's wrong? Who is it?"

Dean didn't answer at first. He just crawled off of Sam and went to sit on the adjacent bed. Then he ground his palms into his forehead before replying...

"It's Dad."

* * *

Author's Note: Well folks, I am extremely sorry for the wait but I think it might just be worth it, don't you? Hope you liked it, sorry for the cliffhanger but you know how it goes. I'm really happy with this chapter. Hope it isn't too bad, but you can let me know by pushing that little review button at the bottom. If I get enough feedback I'll be motivated to write faster. -wink wink-


	7. Ashes, Ashes We All Fall Down

**Caged**

**Disclaimer: I do not own anything Supernatural related. And it's a damn shame too.**

Pairings: Sam/Dean, yep it's still Wincest. Although I doubt I have to post that anymore because if it bothered you so badly you probably wouldn't have gotten this far into the story now would you?

Summary: How do Sam and Dean react to their new relationship when they get a call from their Father?

Author's Note: Well, the wait wasn't as long as it was before so that's good right? I know, I know, in a perfect world I would be able to produce a chapter for every day of the week, but sadly I do have a life (not that I like it very much) and a job (which I like even less) so this will have to do for now. I hope everybody is ready for some angst...

**Ashes, Ashes...We All Fall Down**

* * *

"_It's Dad."_

Sam sat up so fast he thought his head might fall off.

"What do you mean its Dad?"

Dean glared at him thoroughly before he turned his cell phone so that Sam could read the display screen. Sure enough, JOHN WINCHESTER was highlighted at the bottom of the screen with his familiar number glowing angrily in neon green above it.

"I mean exactly what I said Sammy. It's Dad." Dean's voice hollowed out and both of them sat in silence for a minute while the phone continued buzzing like a million irate hornets.

"Well, are you going to answer it?" Dean startled slightly at the angry lilt Sam's voice had taken on. When he took a good look at Sam's face though he couldn't detect any sign of distress or frustration. In fact he didn't see anything at all, Sam's face was like a blank slate and that worried Dean more than he would ever admit.

"I wasn't planning on it." Dean had blurted it out before he had time to think about what he was saying but when he really thought about it, it was true. Answering his phone was one of the last things that he wanted to do at the moment because it would mean that the fantasy was over with and reality had finally caught up with them.

Unfortunately for both of them, where Dean had always thought about something before he reacted, Sam had not. And right now wasn't any different.

"Then I will." Sam moved faster than Dean thought possible and before he knew it Sam had grabbed the phone from his hand and flipped it open.

Without any further ado Sam spoke angrily into the phone.

"What!"

Dean's jaw couldn't have fallen any lower if he had just seen a pig flying through the air or hell freezing over right in front of his eyes.

Dean knew from first hand experience that Sam and their Dad didn't get along very well but Sam had only ever used that tone of voice on Dean. It was a voice that said that he was beyond angry and that if you were in arms reach then he was going to punch you in the mouth. Luckily, their Dad didn't appear to be anywhere near reaching range or all hell would have broken lose. Dean was sure of that at least.

* * *

With Sam in the state that he was in Dean expected yelling or at least a mouthful of hate to explode out of Sam's mouth. What he didn't expect was for Sam's face to go from fire engine red with rage to the color of a piece of paper. And when Sam's eyes grew to the size of pie plates and his pupils contracted almost violently Dean decided that whatever their father had said it couldn't be anything good.

So without waiting for Sam to come out of shock Dean stole back his phone and listened to the voice on the other end of the line.

When all he could hear was silence he spoke into it instead.

"Dad?"

"Dean." The reply was brief and chilled Dean to the bone.

"Hi Dad, where are you?" He tried to keep his voice level but he didn't have to be a psychic to know that something bad was coming and there was no way that he would be able to shield himself from it. Not that he would even if he could.

"Did you think I wouldn't find out?" With those seven words Dean knew why Sam had gone into shock.

However, unlike Sam, Dean was willing to believe that their Dad's phone call and what Sam and him had been about to do, was a complete coincidence. They were in no way related and he was overreacting. At least that was what he was going to tell himself before he went into shock himself.

Still, when he spoke into the phone again his voice had lost some of its cockiness. "What do you mean?"

While Dean spoke he locked eyes with Sam across the three feet of space between them. Sam's eyes had lost some of their deer in the headlight look but Dean could tell by the small tension in his jaw that he was still worried. Unfortunately Dean wasn't in the right state of mind to offer him a reassuring smile. Not until he knew for sure what their father had found out about.

* * *

"Don't think that you can pull that innocent bullshit with me Dean." The coldness was still there but now Dean had enough fuel to offer back some of his own.

"You know as well as I do, _Dad_, that I haven't had any innocence for a long time. So why don't you cut through the crap and tell me what this is about." He said it all with such a measured calculation that Sam could only stare in horror. After all, Sam knew his brother better than he knew himself, and he knew for a fact that Dean had only used that voice on their father once before. And it hadn't ended well then either.

That was because that voice meant two things. That Dean's control was at its finest and that he had just gone from slightly angry to beyond anything other than a cold fury.

Sam could only hope that John still knew Dean well enough to remember what that voice meant and what its implications could be for both of them.

Because Sam knew that whatever John said now, Dean would take it to heart and the emptiness inside of him would grow just a little bit deeper, just a little bit darker. And that was something that Sam could not allow. Even if it meant never talking to their father again.

* * *

While Sam was feeling like he was on the edge of a knife, Dean was feeling like a had a block of ice for a heart. On the up side he couldn't really feel anything at all, but on the down side a small part of him told him that he should feel something. Anything. That a life without feeling wasn't worth living. And it was that thought that made him glance briefly back at his little brother.

He had looked away while he had told John that he was no longer like the innocents that they saved. And even if that wasn't exactly what he had said, inside he knew that it was what he wanted to say. That he was no longer pure like Sam or the people that they went around rescuing. That he had lost so much of himself that he was barely more than a shell now. His blood still fed the ground when he was attacked by the evils in the night, and his heart still beat as loudly as it always had. But his soul didn't keep away the dark anymore like it used to.

He didn't feel warmth when he laughed or love when he kissed. He just felt cold and alone. At least he had until Sam had come back. Not of his own free will of course, but did that really matter?

Unfortunately Dean thought so.

He just couldn't shake the feeling that Sam didn't really want to be with him. That he was just being pulled into the dark like Dean had been. That Dean was the one doing the pulling now. That the only reason that Sam had stuck around this long was because of some misplaced sense of loyalty and the need to try and fix his brother. Too bad for him that Dean knew he was beyond fixing.

But Dean also couldn't help feeling selfish either. That it didn't matter how or why Sam was still here as long as he stayed.

And as Dean looked at Sam he knew that he would do anything to make him stay. Because just a glance into Sam's eyes or a peek of his skin and Dean felt something inside of him release. It was almost as if Dean could see Sam's light and take a little bit of it into himself, if only for a little while.

* * *

"Dean? Dean! Are you still there?"

Dean was brought out of his introspection by the angry voice of his father.

"Yeah, I'm still here. Now what was it that prompted this little phone call?" Dean's voice had lost a little of its chill and now all it did was reek of sarcasm. That made Sam smile and Dean shrug.

"Did you think I wouldn't find out that you and Sam had stopped hunting?" His father's statement took him completely by surprise and Dean almost dropped the cell phone.

"What?" Sam's face had paled again but Dean just shook his head. Of course that only further confused his brother and Sam stood up and went to sit beside him so that he could find out for himself exactly what was going on.

"You heard me. I just spoke to Jonas and he told me that you two didn't show up to exterminate that poltergeist. So what exactly is so damn important that you need to sacrifice peoples lives?"

"How about a little piece of mind for myself Dad. Is that important enough? Or how about giving Sammy a break from his nightmares. Is that a good enough reason?"

For a minute everything was silent. Sam was holding his breath praying to a God that he didn't believe in that their father would understand. And Dean was just waiting for their father to bring the hammer down like he always did.

Dean wasn't disappointed. There was always something to be said for knowing one's family.

"No. We save lives Dean that's what we do. You go where I tell you to, you do the work, and you move on to the next town. That's life."

"So we save other people's lives with no regard for our own, right? Well guess what Dad, I didn't choose this life and neither did Sammy."

"You're right Dean. You didn't choose this life, it was chosen for you. But guess what...I don't care. I didn't raise you to be a child Dean, I raised you and your brother to be soldiers. This isn't a world full of lollipops and candy canes, it's filled with things that could rip your face off and feed it to you. So I'm sorry if you're tired and you want a break but if we don't save these people then no one else will. Are you willing to condemn them to death just because you felt like you needed a vacation?"

Dean didn't say anything for awhile. He just stared silently out the window and watched the rain that had started to fall. All Sam could do was stare at the phone in his brother's hand as if it was the Devil itself.

But just as quickly as it had started the silence ended. Dean took a breath and one last look at Sam before he stood up and walked over to the bag hanging on the old wooden chair beside the broken television. And with his back turned to Sam he answered his father.

"No sir. I'll be back on the road as soon as day breaks. No more stops. I should be at Jonas' by sundown and I'll take care of the poltergeist. Then I'll be waiting for your call and further instructions."

Dean flipped the phone closed before his father could reply. Then he bent over and began packing up his stuff. He only stopped when he heard the small, broken voice of his brother trying to cross the distance that he had put between them.

"What did you mean by 'I?'" Dean stopped packing and turned around with his t-shirt still clenched between his fists.

"I meant exactly what I said Sammy. I'm going to go see Jonas and you're going to go back to Stanford and get your degree. This whole thing..." He waved his arm to encompass the faded carpet and smelly bed sheets in the corner of the room. "This isn't what I wanted for you. You're supposed to be something Sammy. You're supposed to do something besides die in a ditch by the side of the road with half of your face missing because of some damn monster. So, yes, I'm going. And I'm going alone."

He threw his t-shirt into his bag and went to the bathroom to grab his toothbrush and dingy little comb that he had kept since the last rest stop that they had visited. When he was finished with that he dropped the bag beside the front end of his bed and shoved Sam off from it. Before he pulled the covers up he looked Sam right in the eye and for a moment Sam was sure that he was going to apologize. But as quickly as the look of regret came, it was gone again. And all Sam heard before the light went out was a cold, mumbled, "Get some sleep."

* * *

Sam didn't even know what to say. After all of the months that they had been on the road, Dean had never once told him to leave. And even though Sam had threatened to leave more than once, he knew in his heart that he could never truly do it. That life was behind him now.

The life that was filled with college buddies and a blossoming romance had died the night that his ex-girlfriend had been burned alive on the bedroom ceiling. And for the third time in his life he had started over again.

Of course the first time that he had started over had been when he was old enough to remember moving to a brand new house when he was four years old. That was when he had started his life of taking orders and becoming a good little soldier.

The second time that he had started over had been when he had gone off to college and met Jessica. He had started on the road to getting his degree and becoming a lawyer and had even decided that Jessica was the one for him. At least that was what he had wanted at the time. After all, in his new life he had no room for lost loves, especially ones that were blood related.

And finally, he had started over for the last time when Dean had pulled him from his burning apartment and they had started out on the road again.

But it wasn't until the third time, the last time, that Sam had finally realized that this is the way his life was supposed to be. It wasn't full of orders being barked by a distant father, or a life that was sunshine and daisies and clearly meant for someone else. No. This was a life that was truly perfect. It was filled with a little bit of the darkness that tainted him but it was also filled with the love of the one person that he knew he had always depended on.

So if Dean thought that Sam was just going to go back to college and leave Dean to get swallowed by the dark all by himself then he didn't know Sam at all.

* * *

When Sam closed his eyes that night he did so with a determination that he wouldn't allow Dean to step one foot outside the motel room door the next day no matter what.

Unfortunately for him, Dean went to sleep with his own sense of determination. And when Sam woke up in the morning he was met with the sight of an empty bed and a note that told him that if he didn't take good care of the Impala then Dean was going to come back and chop his balls off.

So of course the first thing that Sam did when he pulled himself out of bed was to get a hammer out of the backseat of the car and smash the side view mirror into oblivion. Then he sat down beside the drivers side and waited for his brother to come back to him.

* * *

Author's Note 2: Alright, I'm sorry again for the wait. But life interrupted as it so often does and I had to go in for surgery not too long ago. Still not feeling completely up to par but I know I owe it to you guys, my loyal readers, to post this chapter. Hopefully, the next one will be longer. And yes, there will be a next one. Fingers crossed that it will happen soon. Thanks again and don't forget to review!

-Lily1186


	8. The Road To Hell and Good Intentions

**Caged**

**Disclaimer: I do not own anything Supernatural related. But if I did I can guarantee that my world would be a far more fulfilling place.**

Pairings: Sam/Dean, yep Wincest. If you don't like it, then don't read it. You know the drill.

Summary: Dean tries to adjust to life without Sam as Sam tries to track down Dean.

Author's Note: I am so, so, so sorry that this is so late! I have no new excuses, just the same old ones. Not much consolation I know, but here I am, with a new computer mind you, and ready to continue. I hope this chapter isn't too terrible. And please don't forget to review, even if it's just to yell at me. Alright, here we go…

**The Road to Hell is Paved with Good Intentions**

* * *

It was raining again. Hell, it hadn't really stopped raining for the past three days but who was Dean to complain. It managed to fit his mood nicely while still reminding him why he felt the way he did in the first place.

Of course it didn't help any that the rain also brought memories of Sam and him playing outside in the spring when they were younger. Running, laughing and trying to pretend that they wouldn't be leaving again in two days time for some other God forsaken house in the middle of nowhere. So they would run instead of thinking about it. They would run through small puddles and puddles that were the size of lakes, and continue running until they collapsed on the ground as far away from their current residence as possible. Then Dean would proceed to shelter Sam with his jacket even though Sam was already soaked down to his bones. And Dean could still remember how Sam would just smile and lean in a little closer trying to share some of the heat that Dean always seemed to emanate even when it was 10 degrees below zero outside.

Dean sighed as his memory faded and he adjusted himself in the seat of the too small pick-up truck. The radio was buzzing with noncommittal static and the man who had offered him a ride hadn't spoken a word beyond "Where are you headed?" since he had first stopped to pick him up. But that was just fine with Dean since he didn't really feel like talking much at the moment either. Talking always led to questions he wouldn't answer and strange looks that asked 'what's a pretty boy like you doing on a road like this.'

So instead Dean sat back and allowed his mind to wander for a moment to what Sam might be doing. Then he shook his head and stared out the window telling himself over and over again that he had done the right thing…at least for one of them.

* * *

Sam had sat down beside that damn car for almost two days before one of the motel guests had gotten too nosy and started asking him if he was alright. So instead of waiting for someone to call the cops on him he just picked himself up and locked himself inside his room staring blankly at the back of the door before steadying himself and turning around.

It was when Sam's eyes took in the empty room that was still scattered with the remains of two days ago that he grew angry. Angry at Dean for leaving him behind, angry at their father for taking Dean away from him, and angry at Jonas for mentioning the fucking poltergeist in the first place. So Sam did the only thing he could think of that would calm the rage growing inside of him, he dug through his duffel bag in search of his cell phone.

He didn't even have to think as his hands ran smoothly over the numbers. His brain already knew what he had planned anyways and coherent thought wasn't needed to make it happen.

Sam had to wait three rings before a tired voice came through the other end of the line. "Hello? Who…"

Sam didn't even wait for him to finish. "Where is he going?"

The man on the other end was silent for all of a minute before his voice came back as clear as a bell. "Sam." It wasn't a question.

"Where the hell did Dad send him Jonas." Sam was tired of pleasantries and he had more important things to worry about then upsetting one of his Dad's oldest friends.

"I'm sorry Sam but I can't tell you that." That just made Sam angrier.

"Look Jonas, I don't give a fuck what Dad told you but if you don't tell me where the hell my brother is I am going to come up there and torture your ass until you come up with a better response!"

By the time Sam was finished his voice had risen to the level of a raging storm and his fist had found its way through the wall. Fortunately for him his adrenaline was coursing so heavy that he barely felt the pain…for the moment anyways.

Jonas meanwhile was back to giving him the silent treatment. And when he still hadn't responded after another few minutes Sam almost started swearing again. Instead his voice settled for a chilly, almost emotionless, tone. "I swear to God I'll do it Jonas. I'd do just about anything right now. Don't get in my way."

That was when Sam heard the soft sigh and the ruffling of papers. "It wasn't your Dad Sam."

Sam was confused for a moment. "What do you mean?" His hand had started to throb but he wasn't going to do anything about it until he got some real answers.

"It wasn't your Dad that told me not to tell you where your brother went Sam. It was Dean. He called me two days ago and said that you would call. Made me promise not to tell you where he was going." Jonas paused for a moment as he heard what sounded like a choked sound coming from the other end of the phone. "Maybe…" He thought hard about what he was going to say next. Thought about everything that Sam had been through, everything that Dean had been through. Everything that they still had to go through. What if he could save one of them from that? Maybe Dean had been right about letting Sam go back to college… "Maybe you should just let him go Sam." There he had said it. Now all he had to do was wait.

* * *

Dean stepped out of the truck and waved the guy off with a gruff "Thanks" before heading for the nearest diner. He hadn't eaten in damn near close to two days and his stomach was starting to protest violently. Unfortunately the only thing open at the moment was a mini-mart so he headed for that.

After he had picked up a few bags of chips and a soda he headed to the run-down motel nearby and booked himself a room. The guy at the desk gave him a quick once over before pointing to a room a few doors over and going back to his 'Car and Driver' magazine and bag of Cheetos.

Dean found his room with no problem and slid the key into the lock twisting the handle roughly before being greeted by the same sight he had seen a thousand other times. But somehow, it was different this time. Colder. No one bumped into his shoulder on the way to claim the bed by the wall, no one ragged on him when he pulled the knife out and placed it under his pillow. No one told him that he was being paranoid and then asked him if he was hungry. No one at all. Just a couple of empty beds and a whole lot of silence.

* * *

"You don't have any right." Sam's choked, angry, voice came over the line and Jonas' heart clenched in regret. But it was for the best that he had told Sam that, wasn't it?

"Sam…"

"Do you have any idea…" Sam stopped for a moment and collected himself. "Do you have any idea what we've been through together?"

Jonas wasn't sure exactly what Sam was getting at but he answered as honestly as he could. "Yeah Sam I know. Your Dad has told me about the monsters you guys have faced. I've faced my fair share as well over the years." Sam laughed then. A harsh, grating sound that had the hairs on the back of Jonas' neck standing on end.

"You don't know anything. We've been through hell and back and you can't have any idea what that has been like. Having the knowledge that you don't just have yourself to worry about. I've watched my brother almost _die _right in front of my eyes _twice._ So don't tell me that you know what we've faced because you don't! You don't know about the scars that Dean has on his chest from the Wendigo we fought or the pain that we went through seeing Mom again only to have her taken away from us. You haven't seen the look that Dean gets when a little piece of his soul dies. You don't know about the emptiness inside him because all you care about is finding that damn Demon and getting your revenge! But what about us!" Jonas' mouth fell open and it took him a moment to realize that Sam wasn'treally talking to _him_ anymore. He was yelling what he had always wanted to yell at his father. And it was only then that Jonas finally started to understand. That it finally dawned upon him how badly John had fucked everything up over the years. And the man couldn't even see it, wouldn't see it. That the only thing holding this family together was the love that these two had for each other.

Sam's quiet voice broke through his dark thoughts and Jonas listened attentively. "What about us? Who's going to catch him when he falls? Huh? What's going to happen if I'm not there to save him?"

Jonas took a deep breath as the pressure in his chest increased to near pain. So much despair in such a lost voice. But it was that despair that made up his mind for good. To hell with Dean's macho pride and screwed up way of "helping his brother," and to hell with John's fucked up way of dealing with his sons. To hell with all of it.

"Maine Sam. He's headed to Maine." He was met with a dial tone and he couldn't have been happier. If Dean and John wouldn't fix this then someone damn well had too. And if finding Dean helped Sam to recover one of the things that he had lost then who was he to stand in the way.

Fuck, he was too old for this shit.

* * *

Author's Note: I am so sorry for taking so long and giving you such a short update but I felt like I had to get this out there. I promise to deliver more soon. Sorry again!


	9. Only the Good Die Young

**Caged**

**Disclaimer: I do not own anything Supernatural related. I only own Nate and Rachael. Life just sucks like that sometimes doesn't it? Anyways, I also do not own the title of this chapter, and I can't tell you who does. Sorry.**

Pairings: Sam/Dean, Wincest. If you don't like it then you wouldn't be reading it!

Summary: Sam heads to Maine to find Dean. Meanwhile, Dean meets up with someone unexpected and starts to really question whether he made the right decision.

Author's Note: Wow I can't believe I actually completed another chapter already. Apparently my muse took a vacation and just recently arrived home. Yeah Muse! Anyways, I hope you all like this chapter enough to review again!

Thank you to those of you who have reviewed previously and I'm sorry I haven't been able to thank you all personally! You guys make my day, week and month! Now, here we go…

**Only the Good Die Young**

* * *

Gorham, Maine.

When Dean had told his Father that he would take care of the Poltergeist he had figured that he would be going somewhere remote, somewhere that he could rest a little and take care of the damn thing quietly. Instead he sent him to the middle of a damn college town where, as beautiful as it was, was not going to be anywhere near mentally relaxing or low-key.

'Christ Dad what the hell were you thinking?'

Dean sighed as he rolled down the window of the sedan he was now riding in and stuck his head out the window a little ways. Once he realized that there weren't any signs pointing in the direction of campus living he decided to go for the direct approach.

"You wouldn't happen to know where the University is, would you?"

The driver that had picked him up looked at him kind of funny at first before asking him "Where did you say you were from again?" before proceeding to drive through the intersection once the light had turned green. Once he got to the top of the hill he took a left and ended up turning into the University drive about 400 more feet up the road. He stopped to let a few students cross the road and pulled up to a building reading 'Bailey Hall.'

Dean grabbed his stuff out of the backseat and discreetly readjusted the knife in his back pocket before getting out of the car.

"Hey, thanks for the ride man, I know you had someplace else to be."

The guy, who looked no older than 23 just nodded and waved off the appreciation. "It's no problem, I figured you could use the help."

Dean frowned slightly and leaned in through the open window. He took a harder look at the guy that he had been riding with for the better part of two hours. The kid looked normal enough, but the way that he had mentioned help kind of had Dean's hackles raised. "What did you say your name was again?"

"Nate." A simple answer with no further elaboration on the kid's part and something definitely felt off. Dean took another look around the inside of the car. At first glance it was just another sedan filled with old food wrappers and empty soda bottles. Nothing peculiar there, but as Dean inspected it more carefully he noticed a rip in the seam of the drivers side door that he hadn't seen before. Apparently he had lost his edge if he could have missed something like that. Sam really had him thrown for more of a loop than he thought.

"Something the matter?" Nate smiled quietly and Dean noticed then that he didn't look quite as young anymore. It was something about the eyes, he had seen that look before. It was like a hardness had settled in there, like the kid had seen too much, too fast.

That was when it hit him. He recognized that look because he saw it every time he looked in a mirror. But for some reason that familiarity still wasn't enough to put him at ease and the kid seemed to pick up on that.

He sighed a little as he turned the radio back on. Then he pointed toward the large building looming on his left. "That's Bailey Hall, and if you follow that path there it will lead you to the dining hall. You should be able to find what you're looking for there." The kid's eyes never found their way back to Dean's face and Dean wanted to know why.

"Who are you?" His voice sounded like razors but he didn't really care. He wanted to know what the hell was going on because he knew there was more to this then Nate was saying.

"You really haven't figured it out yet? I'm surprised, normally people like you are better than that."

"People like me?" Dean's hand had inched it's way towards his knife while he tried to keep the kid distracted with more words.

"Hunters." The kid's eyes came back to settle on him and he had his own knife in hand before Dean had even blinked. The kid just stared at Dean for a minute before his soft voice spoke out again. "Don't."

Dean wasn't sure whether or not the kid was talking about the knife or the questions that he wanted to ask. So he stayed silent but kept his hand within reaching distance.

"I'm not here to hurt you. I just thought that since we both shared a common goal that you might need a hand. Usually people like us don't travel alone. It's not smart." His voice trailed off a little and when it came back there was a hint of sadness and a lot of remembrance lacing it. "No one to burn your body if you do it alone."

Dean just continued to stare. When it was clear that the kid wasn't going to say anything more Dean decided that it was time to break the silence. "So who do you hunt with?"

The kid's head jerked slightly as he seemed to come back to himself. He regarded Dean for a moment before relaxing and motioning Dean back into the car. "Why don't you hop back in and we'll get something to eat. There won't be many students out this late at night anyways, so I doubt you'll get any useful information. Tomorrow morning there will be a lot more sources."

Dean hesitated. Was he really going to get back into a car containing a guy that moved quicker with a knife than he did?

The answer was yes. If there was one thing Dean wasn't going to do it was allow this guy to intimidate him. Besides, he was in a win-win situation really. If the guy really was a hunter like himself then he could spend the night doing something other than thinking about Sam, and if he was just a crazy, knife wielding serial killer then he could always subdue him and turn him over to the police later.

So, mind made up, he got back in the car and slammed the door harder than he really needed to. "If this is some kind of sick joke I am seriously going to kick your ass dude."

The kid just chuckled and turned the car around, all the while shaking his head and smiling at his "luck."

* * *

Sam was packed and loaded into the Impala before the phone had even finished shutting off. He left a wad of cash on the table for the maid to find and then hightailed it out of the parking lot before anyone was the wiser.

It was when he had made it through three states and stopped at a gas station for a real map that it finally dawned on him how big the state of Maine was. And he hadn't even bothered to ask Jonas which town Dean was in. God, this week just kept getting better and better.

So, after he had managed to connect his head with the hood several times he pulled out his lap top and decided to do something intelligent for the first time in a week. 'Dean would be having a field day right now.' Sam smiled slightly at the thought of his brother laughing his ass off at him. Then he remembered that it was Dean who was causing the problem in the first place and his smile quickly vanished only to be replaced with an angry grimace.

* * *

Dean took another drink of his Coke before settling more comfortably onto the bench beneath him. They had managed to find a local Subway down the street that was still open and had ordered a couple of subs before sitting down in silence.

It didn't last long though. "So, do you want to tell me who you really are or am I just supposed to guess?" The kid chewed on the food in his mouth for another second before sighing, setting down his sandwich and leaning back on the bench as well.

"I told you already, I'm a hunter. Like you."

Dean snorted. "Yeah I heard you, but how am I supposed to believe that you just happened to be on the same road I was at the same time, in the same profession no less, by chance." The kid shook his head and smiled. Dean was not amused. "Stop that."

That just made the kid smile wider and take a sip of his own drink. "You're not. It wasn't chance Dean, hardly anything where hunters are involved is. I knew you would be on that road, at that time, just like I know that your name is Dean Winchester and you have a brother named Sam."

That had Dean standing and grabbing the front of the kid's shirt before he even had time to think. "You think this is a game you little asshole!" His shout filled the small sub shop and had the employees moving quietly into the back room. Better safe than sorry.

"Calm down idiot before they call the cops on us." With that said the kid swiftly knocked one of Dean's knees out and he fell unceremoniously back onto the bench. The kid fixed his jacket before sitting back down himself. "This is anything but a game Dean."

"Then tell me how you know all of that stuff. And don't bullshit me." The kid narrowed his eyes slightly and wrapped up the rest of his sandwich staring at it longingly before folding it closed.

"I know the same way that your brother knows stuff Dean. I can see it in my head before it happens."

Dean just stared at him before swiftly punching Nate in the face. Nate sputtered indignantly for a moment before glaring at Dean through a quickly swelling eye. "What the fuck was that for!"

Dean just shook his head and threw up his hands. "Why the hell didn't you say anything earlier you moron! I thought you were some kind of stalker or something!"

Nate just gaped at him before politely asking the only remaining employee if he could have some ice. She looked at him dubiously for a moment before agreeing and bringing him over a cup full. He held some to his face for a moment before regaining enough of his cool to speak.

"I thought it might be funny to see where your head took you in forms of scenarios." He grumbled angrily as the melting ice leaked into his swollen eye.

"Well then I guess we know how funny I think you are." Dean smiled before inhaling the rest of his sandwich and throwing away his rubbish, all the while laughing while wondering how this kid had survived as long as he had without getting eaten.

* * *

Sam ran his hands through his hair as he frowned down at the computer screen. Two hours and he still hadn't found anything that remotely resembled what he was looking for. He was even starting to wonder whether Jonas had lied to him about where Dean had gone just to get him off the phone. Sam hoped that for Jonas' sake that wasn't true because he wasn't in the mood to deal with betrayal again so soon.

He stretched for a moment before fastening his eyes onto an article in the Portland Press Herald from a week ago. Something about two mysterious deaths at a fraternity house. He scrolled down a little further and continued reading.

** _ Police are still searching for any new leads that could help them to explain the death of two young college students who were found pinned to the ceiling of one of the University of Southern Maine's Gorham fraternity houses. As of yet no suspects have been identified and police are still baffled by the manner in which the bodies were found having been discovered pinned to the ceiling by a variety of hunting arrows. Local sport and game retailers are currently being questioned._**

Sam quickly scanned the rest of the article before closing his lap top with a smile. So Dean was in Gorham, Maine. That meant that at his current speed Sam could reach him in a matter of days. "God help you when I find you Dean because it's not going to be pretty." That being said Sam set the lap top on the passenger seat and started up the Impala.

"Next stop, Maine."

The sound of squealing tires and the smell of rubber filled the air as a black shadow quickly made it's way to the horizon.

* * *

"So how long have you been 'Psychic Boy'?" Nate just scowled at him as he tried to maneuver the car through traffic with only one good eye.

"About two years actually. My sister and me were on the trail of a black magic practitioner and I got the biggest damn headache of my life in the middle of traffic. It was like I was driving and suddenly…I could see the bitch in my head, you know? Like a movie playing, but a hell of a lot more painful."

Nate smiled slightly at the memory. "So I called my sister to tell her where I thought the evil bitch was hiding." He looked at Dean then before continuing, "You know, whenever we weren't together we would call each other constantly to let the other know where we were. Just to be safe. That way if one of us got killed then the other would know where to find the body to take care of it properly. To salt and burn it and stuff." He looked away and started picking at the rubber on the steering wheel. "I saw her Dean. She thought I was in trouble so she went to the warehouse to find _me._ What I hadn't seen when I got hit with the vision was that the bitch was summoning a Kryos daemon…Rachael never had a chance."

He laughed suddenly and Dean almost jumped at the change in tone. "Life sucks like that sometimes though, huh? I can see the future but I can't do anything to stop it." Silence reigned as Dean tried to think of something to say.

Unfortunately, with Dean distracted he wasn't able to stop the kid from punching the dashboard hard enough to crack the plastic. The sound of bones crunching and blood flowing filled the air but Nate didn't make a sound.

"Shit man." Dean grabbed a spare shirt off of the backseat and used it to wrap the kid's hand before helping him to steer the car to the side of the road.

"Doesn't even hurt." Nate mumbled quietly. Dean just pressed down harder.

* * *

About ten minutes later Nate removed his hand from Dean's grip and used it to open the passenger side door. Dean hadn't even noticed until then that they had pulled into a local motel parking lot and he was even more surprised when the kid started pushing on his shoulder. Dean glared at him like he was stupid.

"I don't think so, dumbass. Somebody has to drive you to a hospital because I'm pretty sure you just broke your damn hand." Nate just kept pushing until Dean was stumbling out of the car. Once he was clear of the door he closed it soundly and tossed Dean his stuff before starting the engine again. But instead of taking off the car just idled quietly.

"I'm not the stupid one Dean. You are. Walking around like your half dead and acting as though nothing is wrong and you can take on the world all by yourself. Well guess what Dean, you can't do it alone. You're not immortal man. You need him. Evil won't care whether or not you _think _you can do it on your own. It will just kill you no matter how stubborn you are." Nate put the car into gear and met Dean's eyes for one last time. "Go find your brother Dean. Find him so that at least somebody will know where to find your body if you get your ass killed one of these days."

And then he was gone. Just like that. And Dean was left standing in the middle of the parking lot covered in someone else's blood with a head full of 'what-ifs.' Like what-if Dean had been Nate and Sam had been Rachael.

A cold feeling settled in his chest as his mind brought him to his worst nightmare. A bleeding, broken Sam with no one to help him. No one to save him when real Evil finally came calling.

Dean walked numbly toward the check-in desk as his head filled with thoughts of dead bodies and blood. Of an emptiness so vast that light couldn't even escape anymore.

When had he fallen so far that he couldn't even see Sam's light anymore? That he would push away the one good thing he had because he couldn't find his way out of the dark.

* * *

Author's Note: Okay, that was hard. I hope I didn't lose you all in the angst! But it will get better eventually I promise. I just wanted to say that I love Gorham so I just had to put it in here. If you've never been there then you have to make a trip, it's absolutely beautiful. All of Maine is really. Anyways, next chapter I am going to try and get into dealing with the Poltergeist, and Sam trying to find Dean. Wish me luck! I will try to get it out while my muse is still with me. Thanks again for reading this!

-Lily1186


	10. Through Cemetery Trees

**Caged**

**Disclaimer: I still do not own anything Supernatural related. **

Pairings: Sam/Dean, Wincest. If you don't like it then don't read it! You've heard it all before folks, don't act like you haven't.

Summary: Dean finally faces off against the Poltergeist with unexpected consequences and Sam arrives in Gorham. Will Sam be able to help Dean or will he only makes things worse?

Author's Note: I am so sorry for taking so long with this update! I can't believe that it has been almost 3 months since the last one. Anyways, I hope it doesn't suck too much, I really tried but there has been so much emotional crap to wade through at my own home that I think I might have added too much of my own emotional state into this. I hope it came out alright anyways, you know what to do about it. REVIEW. I love you all and I am sorry again! Please forgive me! By the way, the title of this chapter was inspired by the song "One Headlight" by the Wallflowers. It's been my favorite to listen to lately so there you have it. Enjoy…

**Through Cemetery Trees**

* * *

So this was the source of all of the trouble. Dean almost snorted in disgust. The frat house looked like every other house on the block except for the yellow police tape that was still hanging off from all of the surrounding tree trunks. He took a deep breath before ducking under the nearest yellow streamer and heading straight for the front door. Everything looked relatively calm, but no one knew better than him that looks could be deceiving. This was especially true considering that it had taken him two whole days to find all of the things that would be necessary to exorcise this particular poltergeist.

However, the amount of time that it had taken him also included all of the research hours that Sam would usually do. And, since research had never really been his strong suit (he had always been better at the killing aspect) it had taken longer than he had anticipated.

He had gained some useful information though. For instance, he had learned that his regular rock salt bullets wouldn't provide the same protection that they usually did. So, Dean had been forced to create silver jackets for the shells and a container that could hold holy water mixed with the rock salt. It had all been very time consuming but he had learned a few things along the way.

For instance, Dean had learned that the poltergeist that was haunting the frat house had been viciously assaulted sometime back in the late 1800's before being humiliated while the entire town had looked on in amusement. Afterwards, his body had been cremated and his ashes had been thrown onto the land where the frat house now stood.

But that wasn't the only thing that was different about this particular case. Dean had also learned that after the body's ashes had been spread a curse had been placed upon the ground and the ground itself had become unsanctified.

What bothered Dean the most though was the fact that he had never been able to locate a reason behind why the man had been killed that way in the first place. Obviously he had done something horrible to piss off so many people but whatever it was, no one had written about it.

Instead, the only information that Dean had found was a couple of clippings about the state of the body and the way in which the remains had been dealt with.

* * *

Dean sliced the evidence sticker along the door frame and silently pushed his way in. The house was empty of course and the only sounds that echoed around the room were the sound of Dean's own boots making a path across the carpeted entryway.

He loaded his favorite shotgun with the specialized bullets that he had made and cocked it quietly while he made his way through the front of the house. There was no sign of the damn poltergeist though. Dean's eyebrows knitted together when he heard the front door slamming against the wall behind him.

He took his right hand off of the trigger for a minute so that he could motion behind him. When he realized what he was doing though his hand stopped in midair and he turned around.

No one was there.

For a brief moment he had forgotten that Sam wasn't there to watch his back. He was all alone this time and the only one keeping his ass alive was him. He sighed heavily and headed back toward the open door being careful not to make any extra noise.

When he was closing the door though he had an epiphany. He had two choices in front of him. He could stay and destroy the poltergeist. After that he would leave and continue on to another town, doing the same thing he had done his entire life. He could save people. He could even convince himself that Sam had moved on and forgotten him. That he would go off and live a normal life somewhere. That Sam was happy. That he was happy.

Then there was the other choice. He could leave, right now, and search for Sam. He could find true happiness. But, in doing so he would be disobeying his father and putting innocent lives at risk by allowing the poltergeist, and countless other evils, to live. "Live" being a relative term of course.

He couldn't do it. He couldn't condemn others to death knowing that he might be able to save them. And for that he himself was damned to a life of emptiness and sorrow. For that, he hated his father more than life itself. Hated him for forcing this life on him, hated him for never trying to separate family from demon hunting. Dean hated his father for showing him the ugliness in the world. For never even trying to shield him from it. For throwing him in head first and not bothering to see if he could swim. But the one thing that he hated the most was that, somewhere along the way, he had become him.

And with that realization in mind Dean took one last look outside before closing the door and stepping back.

He brought his shotgun to eye level and started toward the second floor via the stairs. He made sure that every one of his steps was well placed and that he maintained balance on all sides. He kept his eyes constantly searching for motion and took the stairs two at a time.

And by the time he reached the top of the stairs Dean Winchester was no longer the older brother of Samuel. He was the son of John. He was no longer a regular human. He was a hunter.

* * *

Sam was twenty miles out of Gorham, Maine when he felt the shift. At first he had thought that he was about to have another vision. So, as quickly and cautiously as he could, he pulled over to the side of the road and parked the car.

But when five minutes had gone by and the pain in his head and chest had continued to grow and no disgusting images were appearing, Sam knew that something else was very wrong.

That's when it hit him. Dean. Something was wrong with Dean. Sam didn't know how he knew, all he knew was that Dean needed his help and if he didn't hurry then there wouldn't be a Dean left to save.

So, without a second thought, Sam threw the car into gear and pressed his foot to the pedal as far as it would go.

* * *

Dean had cleared three rooms on the second floor before he found any evidence that the poltergeist was even there.

He made that discovery when he exited the bathroom located in the fourth bedroom and a television remote control connected hard with his left temple. He felt the skin break and the blood start to flow. Instead of dwelling on the pain though he pushed it aside and rose. He brought the shotgun up with him but he was met with nothing more than a wall covered with AFI posters and a nudie calendar with the seventeenth circled in red.

He scanned the rest of the room and wiped some more of the blood from his temple before he headed back out into the hallway. That was where he was greeted with another surprise, a lamp cord around his ankle. Dean remained calm. He stammered sideways into the opposite wall and then took out his 9mm and shot through the cord. He put the safety back on the 9mm before shoving it back into the spot at the small of his back. Then he untied the remainder of the cord as quickly as he could. He readjusted the shotgun before pausing near the top of the stairs.

"Alright asshole, I know you've got some issues to work out so why don't you just show yourself and we can talk about it." He didn't get a reply. "Fine, we'll do things my way then."

After a full minute with still no sign of activity he started back down the stairs muttering, "Stupid fucking poltergeists."

* * *

When he got to the bottom he noticed that the front door that he had closed earlier was open again. A couple of leaves from the front yard had even blown in and were scattered near the couch.

Dean made his way along the wall making sure to keep his line of sight clear and his being careful not to make his back a target.

When he reached the door he hesitated. For a moment he couldn't figure out what was wrong but after another minute he finally pinpointed the problem. It was quiet. And not just the inside of the house, but the outside as well. The wind had stopped blowing and there were no birds or insects sounding anywhere.

So, instead of closing the door, Dean turned back around and headed for the center of the living room. When he got there he pulled a small book out of his left front pocket. "Let's see who's playing now, dickwad."

He thumbed past an incantation to raise the dead and stopped on the page that contained the exorcism ritual required to cleanse the house and the surrounding grounds. After he finished making a circle with his own blood he removed a small vial from his other pocket. It was filled with a mixture of raven's feathers, holy water, rock salt and blood.

Dean ripped a piece of his shirt off as quickly as he could and tied it around the cut on his hand before starting to chant. Almost as soon as the first Latin phrase left his mouth, all hell broke loose.

First the couch rose almost three feet off the ground and flew at him full force.

Luckily, it was far enough away that Dean had enough time to duck before it slammed into the adjacent wall. Unfortunately, when the wood frame splintered a couple of pieces managed to find there way into Dean's arms when he hoisted himself back up from the floor.

Then, when he got to his feet he was met with a blow to the stomach care of a glass beer pint. The blow caused Dean to stagger back about a foot which brought him into reaching range of the shotgun. He stumbled forward slightly, fingers open, and grabbed for the handle. That was when he was blinded by a cloud of salt and pepper from a shaker that Dean had seen on the coffee table earlier when he was coming down the stairs.

His eyes began to burn almost immediately and he lost sight of the shotgun when his eyes began to blur from the welling of his tears. To make it a little easier on himself, he fell to his knees and started groping for it. He could hear the rustling of the leaves across the carpeting as well as another sound that he couldn't quite identify. Then there was nothing but silence. Dean stopped for a second and tried to clear his eyes the best he could. And that was when he heard a sound that made his stomach clench in fear.

Someone had cocked the rifle. The sound that he couldn't identify earlier was the sound of the rifle lifting off of the carpet. And now someone, or something, had his gun in their possession. This did not bode well.

Dean's eyes focused in the direction of the sound and what he saw made his stomach fall even farther.

His eyes were still a little blurry but they had recovered enough so that he could make out the shape of a boy that looked about 18 years old. 'He's tall' was the only real thought that made its way through Dean's brain as he stared down the barrel of his own shotgun.

After that all Dean did was feel. First he felt indignant that the kid was actually smiling at him. Like this kid knew that he had somehow done something that no other person or creature had been able to do. Bring the Great Dean Winchester to his knees.

Then Dean felt angry. Angry that some little poltergeist had gotten the better of him. That he had done everything that he was supposed to do, that he had everything necessary to defeat this stupid thing and all of it was lying no further than 3 feet from his body and he couldn't get to it. He had killed Wendigoes, Vampires, and even won out against death once or twice, and he was about to be taken out by a mere ghost.

Dean would have laughed his ass off at the situation if he didn't suddenly feel extremely cold. He frowned slightly at the feeling that was spreading from his left shoulder. It wasn't really painful, just numb. Like his entire shoulder had just been plunged into an ice bath or something.

So when he felt himself keeling backwards he thought that it was just because he needed to rest for a second. That maybe if he played dead then he could catch the poltergeist by surprise and then he could destroy it and move on with his life.

It wasn't until he started feeling nothing at all that he became a little worried. It was like a fog was covering his mind. He didn't feel angry or scared anymore. He didn't even feel sad or happy or in pain. He just felt empty. Like there wasn't anything left in him to feel.

So when he heard the front door close his mind merely acknowledged the sound, not any feeling that its closing might bring, like happiness or fear. And when Dean heard a shout and the sound of glass breaking he simply continued to stare at the ceiling and absorb the colors painted there.

He didn't acknowledge the wind that seemed to come out of thin air or the sound of Latin filling every corner of the room. He didn't even flinch when a scream so horrible it would have curdled blood erupted from the center of the room where he had drawn his circle.

And when there was silence again all Dean could do was wonder why his jacket suddenly felt so wet and why Sam was standing like a God above him holding an exorcism book and a broken vial.

* * *

Author's Note 2: I know I am a horrible person for leaving it there but I promise that the next chapter will be well worth the wait! Just for an explanation on the poltergeist thing, I have always heard that spirits and poltergeists are in two separate categories. Poltergeists have the ability to make themselves visible and move objects around, while spirits are more docile and "friendly" I guess you might call them. Also, there will be a little more back story in the next chapter on the poltergeist himself. Oh yeah, and some of the brotherly moments you have all been waiting for. Hope you enjoyed, if you did then don't forget to review! I love you all!

-Lily1186


	11. If It Seems Too Good To Be True

****

Caged

Disclaimer: Alas, I still do not own anything Supernatural related, but a girl can dream can't she?

Pairings: Sam/Dean. That's Wincest folks, but you already knew that, didn't you?

Summary: Sam finds Dean at the fraternity house but complications arise and he has no choice but to take him to Jonas' place.

Author's Note: Hey guys! I know you probably hate me by now for taking so long but I'm finally here again and I couldn't be happier! Nothing ever goes as planned but I still managed to get this done so hopefully it doesn't suck too much. I love all of you who have waited for this and those of you who have encouraged me to finish. Without further ado, I give you chapter 11 of "Caged." Enjoy…

Italics thoughts

IMPORTANT: This chapter switches between Sam and Dean's POV. Also, Sam's timing is slightly behind Dean's.

If It Seems Too Good To Be True…

* * *

There is nothing but sound. An endless drone of completely incomprehensible noise that filters through his head continuously but never gets any clearer. Voices maybe, but he can't be sure, because right now he can't really be sure of anything. The only thing that Dean is really aware of is that it's dark and he's cold.

It's not just his skin either. Sure, his skin is definitely cold and he can't feel any of the fingers on his left side anymore, but it's the cold that's settling around his heart that's starting to make him uncomfortable.

Lights now. A sort of muted color behind his eyelids that makes his head spin and his stomach twist. Then more noise. For a second he's weightless and everything seems to be okay. He doesn't feel pain anymore, just a deep sense of nothingness that would have made a sane man scream. But Dean's never been a sane man.

So instead of screaming he simply allows the muted lights to fade away completely. Now all he has to contend with is the sound. Slowly though, after an immeasurable amount of time the sound dies away too, and Dean is left with nothing but dark, silent space.

* * *

Sam can't remember the last time he's felt so tired. Unfortunately, he isn't sure if it is because of the adrenaline coursing through his body or the poorly completed exorcism.

Sam's not quite sure just what the hell Dean had been thinking adding that much energy to a circle but he was sure as hell going to yell at him about it later.

For the time being though Sam just wanted to catch his breath and give his brother a hug. That and maybe slap him aside the head for abandoning him in the first place.

Sam threw the empty vial in his hand across the room before carefully placing the well-worn spell book back in his pants pocket. Then he took a look around at the damage.

All in all the place looked like shit. There was broken glass everywhere along with a bunch of old food and an overturned coach near the far end of the room. Dean meanwhile appeared to be laid out on the floor catching his breath.

"Jesus Dean you didn't even finish the damn thing, what the hell are you tired for?" Sam paused for a minute to pick up Dean's shotgun. There was a layer of Cheeto crumbs all over it but other than that it seemed alright.

Sam swore a little at the way that Dean had mishandled the shotgun before he turned around to give him a piece of his mind. After all, it was one thing to botch an exorcism, Dean was never as good at Latin as he was anyways, but to leave his gun just laying around….

Dean still hadn't moved. "Don't you think the silent treatment is a little immature, Dean?" Still no response. Sam's heart skipped a beat.

"Dean? Hey man, this isn't funny anymore." Dean's chest just slowly rose and fell in response. "Dean…"

Sam took a few steps across the room before he noticed the dark stain spreading across the carpet. He took a few more steps and the shotgun fell from his hand to land noiselessly on the carpet somewhere behind him.

The walk towards Dean's body seemed to take forever, but finally he was standing above him looking down. There was a stain similar to the one on the carpet that was blossoming across Dean's left shoulder but for a moment shock took over and Sam couldn't put together what it meant.

When it finally hit him he fell to his knees and started searching for a pulse. "Dean! Dean! Wake up! Come on man this is nothing!"

Sam scrambled to release Dean's shoulder from the leather of his jacket. Unfortunately the blood had started to dry and the leather was sticking to the fabric of his t-shirt. So instead of wrestling with it and wasting precious time he grabbed the blade that he kept in his back pocket and sliced up the center of the t-shirt.

Sam panicked when he saw the extent of the wound. It was far from "nothing." The entry wound was jagged and appeared to be filled with glass shards. On top of that the surrounding skin appeared to be irritated, as if someone had poured salt in it, and it was still bleeding profusely.

Sam quickly used the remains of Dean's ripped shirt to apply pressure and slow the blood flow. He even looked around to see if there was any water or alcohol he could use to disinfect the wound. All he could see though was half filled glasses of beer, and the majority of those had spilled onto the carpet during the exorcism. Sam swore again and grabbed a black t-shirt that was hanging off a nearby chair. Dean's white shirt had turned a foreboding shade of red and he needed something drier to continue slowing the flow of blood from Dean's shoulder.

Sam checked his pulse again and was dismayed to discover that Dean's skin had become clammy and cold to the touch. His face had also become a sickening shade of gray. Sam swore under his breath when he realized that Dean was going into hypovolaemic shock.

"Dean? Can you hear me?" Dean didn't make any attempt at confirming that he had heard anything. "I need you to stay with me, okay? I'm going to move you."

Sam ripped the belt off from his waist and quickly looped it over Dean's right shoulder. Then he wrapped it around the front of his chest before securing it over the black t-shirt. He also grabbed Dean's leather jacket off from the floor and attempted to settle it over him the best that he could. Sam knew it was wet but when he thought about it he realized that they didn't really have anything that would keep him warm in the car. And, from what he could remember from his Anatomy and Physiology class in college, he needed to keep Dean as warm as he could.

Sam got onto one knee and maneuvered his hands under Dean's legs and under his right armpit so that he could get a secure grip. Finally, without any further ado Sam hoisted Dean up and started running to the car as fast as his exhausted body would let him.

* * *

Dean had never been afraid of the dark. He had killed things that lived in the dark almost his entire life and it had never bothered him before. But now, being surrounded by a darkness that didn't seemed to end was starting to scratch away at his sanity a little.

He had been here (wherever here was) for what felt like an eternity and yet nothing seemed to change. There were no lights and no creatures lurking in the shadows. It was just an endlessly large, open space full of the occasional whisper or a soft breeze.

Dean might even have found it enjoyable if every sense in his body weren't telling him that something was horribly wrong.

It didn't make sense really because Dean was surrounded by everything that he had ever wanted, which was nothing at all. There was no evil beings waiting to jump at him from the dark. There was no father yelling at him to do better or be stronger. And there was no one to abandon him because there was no one at all.

No one.

Dean's mind stirred at that thought and the soft breeze that had been blowing gently seemed to pick up a little in strength.

There was no one here. He should be happy about that, right? No one to nag at him, or yell at him, or to get emotionally attached to.

The whispering that he had heard before intensified, and he could almost feel what he remembered as rain falling on his skin.

The words seemed to echo aloud in the space around him and Dean realized that he was hearing his own thoughts. Words again. But this time the words came with feelings. A deep ache filled with regret and sorrow. But what was there to be sad about? He should be happy here. His life was shit before. He had everything in this place, and nothing back there.

But what about…

He was starting to remember now. There had been one good thing in his life. Dean thought harder about what he was forgetting. What he would be giving up if he stayed here.

The rain was falling harder now and the wind had reached its peak.

Dean just stood in the middle of it all looking out into the darkness.

* * *

Sam had never driven so fast in his entire life. He must have broken at least 7 different traffic laws along the way but at the moment he couldn't have cared less.

He was going so fast he almost missed the sign announcing his arrival in Windham. He made a hard right onto the next road and sped ahead while continually casting sidelong glances at Dean's unmoving form. Sam reached his hand out and laid it as gently as he could against Dean's cheek. It was ice cold. Sam pressed down harder on the accelerator.

Another eternity passed before Dean noticed something reflecting in the darkness. He paid no mind to the fact that there was no light to reflect off of anything though because he knew that if he did he would really lose his mind. So things were a little strange here, Dean was use to strange.

Dean realized what it was as soon as his fingers grazed it. A small black cord that Sam and him wore on their wrists to remind themselves that they were never alone. That they always had each other.

Sam!

Dean gripped the cord as tight as he could before willing the rain to stop. There was no transition from heavy downpour to light mist. It simply stopped. The wind had stopped as well. Dean took one last long look at the dark before he slid the leather cord onto his wrist. Without a second thought Sam's name tore itself from the bottom of his soul and spilled out into the light.

* * *

Sam could see Jonas' house no more than 50 feet up the road. There were lights on in the front room and at least 3 cars parked out front.

Sam slammed on the breaks so fast that the car spun a good 30 degrees on the dirt before finally coming to a stop. He left the keys in the ignition without a second thought, and practically flung himself out of the driver's side door in his attempt to reach Dean faster.

Once again Sam hooked his arms under Dean's knees and proceeded to lift him like he had at the fraternity house. He took special care in not disturbing Dean's shoulder any more than necessary while attempting to get him to the front door in record time.

Sam could hear the sound of muffled voices through the door but he didn't wait to see if anyone would open it. He simply rearranged Dean's body and used his right leg to kick the door in.

It slammed hard into the wall but Sam didn't wait to see if he had broken anything. Instead, he started making his way down the hall toward the kitchen. The sound of half a dozen pistols cocking followed him.

"Put those damn guns away you morons! Christ, if it had been a demon you would all be dead already anyways!" Jonas' angry voice flowed down the hallway after him.

Sam managed to make it to the kitchen without getting shot and without having a face-to-face with Jonas. He took advantage of his good fortune and placed Dean on the table while he went searching for a pair of tweezers and a large bottle of peroxide.

Unfortunately although his luck was usually pretty bad it proved to be exceptionally ill tonight.

He had just turned back from the cabinet over the sink with a bundle of first-aid supplies balanced in his arms when he was met with the angry face of Jonas Hale.

"Sam, just what the hell…" Jonas trailed off as he entered the kitchen and his eyes fell on the sight of Dean's body bleeding onto the tile floor. "Jesus Christ…"

Sam pointedly ignored him and started setting up the things he would need to try and patch Dean up. Jonas took stock of everything that Sam had grabbed before he turned around and left the room.

Sam began carefully removing the shirt covering Dean's wound and cringed slightly at the blood that oozed out with the lack of pressure. He quickly grabbed a pad of gauze off the table beside him and reapplied pressure before unscrewing the cap off the peroxide bottle.

After Sam had finished picking out every last shard of glass from Dean's shoulder, and cleaning it as well as he could, he picked him up once again and started walking down the hall. There was an empty bedroom down on the left and Sam laid Dean carefully onto the bed inside. Dean didn't even grunt in pain. He was still cold. Sam pulled the nearest blankets up to Dean's chin before making his way back to the kitchen to think.

Jonas returned about a half an hour after Sam had placed Dean in the bedroom. He was carrying several paper bags in his arms and a few more lines under his eyes. Sam just watched him silently from the kitchen table as he made his way across the room to the countertop.

"Are you going to help me with this stuff or not?"

Sam simply stared at Jonas' back in response. Jonas sighed before he turned around and faced Sam head on.

"Well, let it out. I can tell you're pissed at me about something Sam and you sitting there staring at me isn't going to fix anything."

Sam bowed his head for a minute. There was a million different accusations that he wanted to throw at Jonas. A million different things that he wanted to blame him for. Why hadn't he stopped Dean? Why hadn't he called Sam after Dean had talked to him?

Instead, he looked Jonas in the eyes and his voice broke. "Why isn't he waking up? I fixed him, he's fine now. He should be awake and back to normal. Everything should be back to normal."

Jonas shook his head. "Nothing is ever as simple as it seems Sam, you know that."

Sam's fists clenched. "I shouldn't have to know it Jonas! Dean shouldn't have to know it either! Christ, Dean might be dying…" Sam's breath caught at the word and his vision swam for a minute. He didn't even see Jonas move until he was standing in front of him shaking his shoulder.

"…Sam! Are you okay? Can you hear me?"

Sam nodded weakly and leaned his head back in the chair. "What the hell happened Sam? It was just a poltergeist. A simple little poltergeist."

Sam smiled wryly and Jonas got chills at the look Sam gave him.

"Yeah, well, nothing is ever as simple as it seems, is it Jonas."

* * *

Author's Note: Well, this was originally intended to be the final chapter of "Caged" but my muse ran away with me and now it's becoming more involved than I thought it would be. So stayed tuned because the next chapter should be out soon, and I can promise it will be a doozy.

Oh, and just a little teaser for you guys… John's back…

-Lily1186


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